The Case of the Missing Detective
by MomsDarkSecret
Summary: Nancy Drew is missing! Does it have something to do with her current case? The Hardy Boys take up the investigation. Warning: This story contains an incestuous homosexual subplot, suggestive language and mature situations. COMPLETE
1. Missing

**Disclaimer**: The characters Frank Hardy, Joe Hardy and Fenton Hardy are borrowed from the series of Hardy Boys books by Franklin W. Dixon. The characters Nancy Drew, Carson Drew, Ned Nickerson, George Fayne and Bess Marvin are borrowed from the series of Nancy Drew books by Carolyn Keene.

**Warnings**: This story includes as an on-going sub-plot an incestuous homosexual relationship between Frank and Joe Hardy. **Slash Warning**! While none of the scenes are particularly graphic or explicit, there's no mistaking what's going on. There is also an implied lesbian relationship between George Fayne and Bess Marvin. If these sorts of things make you uncomfortable, I strongly suggest you stop now and go read some other story.

**Summary**: Nancy Drew is missing and Frank and Joe Hardy step in to investigate. This story is a sequel to **The Mystery of the Celibate Corpse**, although it is not necessary to read that story first.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Chapter 1: **Missing**

"So what do you think of the apartment?" Frank Hardy stood in the middle of the comfortable living room with his hands on his hips watching his brother Joe explore the surprisingly large attached kitchen.

"This is great! I can't believe you were able to get such a great place so close to campus."

"And it has two bedrooms," Frank reminded him.

Joe grinned at him. "Is that so Dad will have a place to sleep when he visits?"

"Yeah, while you're sleeping on the couch!"

"Oh, thanks!" Joe walked into the living room and flopped down on the aforementioned couch. "It's hard to believe that Dad still doesn't know we're doing it."

Frank shoved Joe's feet off the couch and sat down next to him. "Maybe he does know and is just pretending not to. It's probably not something he'd want to accept."

"Could be. But at least we're monogamous." The phone rang and Joe grinned. "Unless that's your girlfriend calling!"

"No doubt!" Frank laughed as he leaned over to pick up the phone from the side table. "Hello?"

"_Hello? Is this Frank Hardy? This is Bess Marvin. I don't know if you remember me…_"

"Of course I remember you. You're Nancy Drew's friend."

"_Yes! Frank, I need your help. Nancy's missing!_"

"What?! Since when?" Frank beckoned to Joe and held the phone at an angle so they could both listen.

"_She's been missing for three days. Her father reported her missing yesterday and the police found her car parked in front of a house on Oakmead last night. The residents didn't know anything about it. They said her car had been there a couple of days but they didn't see who left it. None of the neighbors had. I'm so worried! It's not like Nancy to stay out of touch._"

"You're right. What can I do to help?"

"_Can you meet me and Ned, Nancy's boyfriend, today? We could meet you at Nick's Coffee Shop at noon._"

Frank glanced at his watch. It was just after 11:00 am. "Yeah, I think we can make that. Is it all right if I bring my brother Joe?"

"_Of course, please do! And thank you so much!_" The relief in Bess' voice was palpable, even through the phone.

"We'll see you around noon. Bye." Frank disconnected and looked at Joe. "Nancy is way too professional to stay out of touch for three days."

Joe nodded in agreement. "Something's wrong. We'd better get up there."

"Right."

They arrived at Nick's Coffee Shop a little bit after noon. Bess and Ned were seated at a booth close to the door. They were both wearing the stiff expressions of people trying to hide worry, although Bess was having more success than Ned. Joe and Frank slid in opposite them.

"Thank you so much for coming," Bess said. Her voice betrayed the worry she was managing to keep off her face. "I just didn't know where else to turn."

"When did you realize Nancy was missing?" Frank asked.

"Two days ago, on Saturday." Bess looked quickly at Ned. "Ned and Nancy had a date, but Nancy didn't show. When he couldn't reach her on her cell phone or at home, he called me."

Ned nodded. "I got the answering machine when I called the house. Mr. Drew didn't see the message until Sunday and that's when he called the police."

"Was Nancy working on a case?"

"I think so," Bess said, "but she wouldn't tell me anything about it."

"Did the police go through her computer?"

"They might have, but I doubt they would have found anything. Nancy told me once that she encrypts her case files for privacy."

"She's very professional," Ned murmured.

"Yes she is," Frank nodded in agreement. "So I'd like to look at her files anyway. I bet Nancy left a key for accessing her files, just in case."

"_If_ she was working on a case." The doubt in Ned's eyes made him look vulnerable.

Frank studied his face. "You don't think she was working on something?"

"I don't know. Nancy didn't always talk to me about her cases. It's just…" Ned hesitated and his eyes looked bright.

Frank wondered if he was going to cry. "What?"

"I asked Nancy to marry me last week. She was supposed to give me an answer on Saturday." Ned's voice broke and he covered his eyes.

"You think she got cold feet?" Joe asked in surprise.

"Nancy's so independent…"

"She's also too honest not to give you an answer," Frank interrupted. "If she had reservations about marrying you, she'd tell you."

A small sob escaped Ned and he nodded slightly.

"Do you think Mr. Drew would let us look through her things?" Frank asked Bess.

"I'm sure he would. He knows you and I know he's worried about Nancy."

"All right. Let's stop by Mr. Drew's office and talk to him. Nancy's already been missing three days. I don't want to waste any more time." Frank picked up the tab and left a tip for the waitress, even though he and Joe hadn't ordered anything.

"Thank you, Frank," Bess said. She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, which she had wadded up to microscopic size. "I'm afraid I have to get back to work. You'll let me know what you find out?"

"Of course." Frank looked at Ned. "Do you want to come with us?"

"If you don't mind."

"No problem. Nancy's important to you. It's natural you'd want to know everything."

Ned nodded, his worried smile managing to look both relieved and grateful.

"I'll call you later, Bess, ok?" Frank said.

"Thank you." She hurried up the street, heading back to her job at the pharmacy.

"Why don't you ride with us?" Joe said to Frank. "I'll take the back seat."

The three of them climbed into Frank's car and he drove to Carson Drew's office. Carson's receptionist, Ruth Barnes, greeted them with worried surprise.

"Frank and Joe Hardy! I didn't expect to see you. And Ned! How are you holding up?"

Ned shrugged, obviously in no mood to discuss his worry with the town's biggest gossip.

"Is Mr. Drew in?" Frank asked. "We'd like to talk to him for a moment if he's available."

"Let me make sure he's not busy." She tapped the intercom. "Mr. Drew? Frank and Joe Hardy are here to see you. Ned is with them."

"_Send them in._"

"You can go in," Ruth said, as if they somehow had not heard Carson speaking.

"Thanks."

The three of them went into the rear of the office and found Carson waiting for them in the hallway outside his office door.

"Come in," he beckoned to them and led the way inside. "Please take seats," he offered as he settled on the edge of the desk. "I guess you heard Nancy is missing."

"Yes. Bess Marvin called us." Frank sat down, and Joe and Ned followed suit. "Mr. Drew, do you know if Nancy was working on a case?"

"I think so. She was spending a lot of time in her room on the computer. That's usually a sign that she's working on something."

"Would you permit us to look through her files? There might be clues to her disappearance."

Carson studied them thoughtfully. "Normally, I'd say no, but under the circumstances…"

"Did the police check her computer?" Joe asked.

"They did, but they said there was nothing unusual. They found a few encrypted files, but that was it." Carson frowned. "But they only looked at it for a few minutes. I don't think the Chief is too concerned about the situation. Despite your work on that last case, I still think he underestimates her abilities."

Frank nodded. "I suspected that might be the case. But I think I understand how Nancy's mind works, from a professional point of view. I might be able to find something that the cops couldn't."

"I appreciate the offer, Frank," Carson said. 'The truth is I'm really worried. Nancy has never gone this long without contacting me. I'm afraid she might be in serious trouble."

"I'm worried about that, too," Frank agreed.

Carson stood up and went around his desk to open the top side drawer. "Here are my spare house keys. Are you going with them, Ned?" At Ned's nod, Carson continued. "Good. Ned knows the alarm code. Please let me know what you find out."

Frank accepted the keys from Carson with a nod. "Hopefully, we'll find something concrete, but we'll let you know either way."

"Thank you."

Outside Carson's office, Joe touched Frank's arm. "He's really worried. I know he said it, but I was watching his body language. He's starting to freak out."

"I know how he feels," Ned murmured.

"I saw it, too," Frank said. "Let's get over to the house. There have to be clues on Nancy's computer."

At the Drew house, Frank unlocked the front door and Ned turned off the alarm system.

"Nancy gave me the code to the alarm system after…" Ned paused and flushed. "After we became intimate. She said that since I would be sleeping here sometimes I needed to know how to turn off the alarm if I was leaving the house early in the morning."

"Makes sense," Frank said absently. He led the way up to Nancy's room.

Ned's brow wrinkled in surprise. "Have you been in Nancy's room before?"

Frank glanced at him. "A few times. The first time we worked on a case together we were using her computer."

"Oh."

The three of them entered Nancy's room. It was neat, but still had that look of having just been left, as if Nancy had only moments before grabbed her belt pouch and hurried out. Ned sobbed faintly and blinked back tears.

Joe patted him on the shoulder. "Hang in there, Ned. Nancy's tough. We'll find her."

Ned managed a grateful nod, but his eyes remained bright.

Frank sat down in front of the computer. "First thing I want to do is check the history in her browser. I want to see what sites she visited last. We'll look in her email as well." He glanced at Ned. "We'll skip anything that looks personal. After that, we'll go through her documents, starting with the recent ones. If Nancy didn't expect to disappear, she won't have done any housekeeping on her computer. It should look just as she left it."

"Assuming the cops didn't wipe out anything," Joe muttered.

"True," Frank acknowledged. "But if they only spent a few minutes on it, they shouldn't have done too much harm." As the screen brightened, he brought up the browser and dropped down the history list. "That's interesting. She visited quite a few missing children's sites. And she hit Google, too. I bet she was looking for someone." He cut and pasted the site names into a text file so he could save them. "Let's check email."

Ned leaned over his shoulder. "Most of those are from me."

Frank nodded. "Looks like it. And most of her sent mail is to you, too. The rest of it looks like the usual stuff: book store ads, a clothing website, her other friends. None of this looks useful." He closed Nancy's email and sat back. "I wonder if we should have the cops get her cell phone records."

"What about her recent files?" Joe asked. "You said you wanted to look at those."

"I do." Frank sat forward again. He went through all the files in the recent files list. One of them was encrypted. "This is the one we need to get into."

"Do you really think you can crack it?" Ned asked.

"I can't crack it; I want to find her encryption key. She'll have left it somewhere as a precaution. But it won't be on the computer." Frank turned around and scanned the room. "Nancy is very smart. She wouldn't put it somewhere where it could be found accidentally, but she would want someone who was deliberately looking to be able to find it."

"There!" Joe said abruptly. He crossed the room to a set of shelves installed on the wall by the window. Nancy had several knickknacks on display. Joe picked up a beautifully carved and painted miniature replica of an Egyptian mummy case. "It's a crypt, sort of," Joe said as he carefully opened it. Inside, resting under the linen-wrapped mummy doll like a pillow was a folded piece of paper. Joe unfolded the paper and grinned. "Bingo!" He returned and handed the paper to Frank. A long string of letters and numbers was printed neatly across the paper.

"Good job, Joe!" Frank grinned at him. "Remind me to reward you later."

Joe grinned back. "Will do."

Frank turned back to the computer and opened the encrypted file. At the prompt, he typed in the key. After a brief hesitation, the screen refreshed to display the unencrypted document. "Excellent!" Frank exclaimed. He began to read, with Ned and Joe reading over his shoulders.

"Wow!" Joe exclaimed. "A missing kid. That's sad."

The document contained a neat summary of Nancy's notes on her current case. She was searching for a missing eleven-year-old girl. The girl, Jolene Winters, lived with her mother and stepfather. The mother had sole custody and was not on speaking terms with the father. The father was out of the country and Nancy's notes indicated she had not yet been able to speak with him. Nancy had talked to the police and discovered they considered the girl a runaway. Her notes on that conversation conveyed her disgust with Chief Jones:

_Chief Jones interviewed Mr. and Mrs. Quito the day after they reported their daughter missing, but only because Mr. Quito is a prominent local businessman. Chief Jones dismissed the whole thing as an "unhappy child of divorce" situation. He said Jolene's friends had told him that she was unhappy at home. He is positive the girl will turn up after a few weeks, none the worse for wear. I disagree. I also sensed something going on in that house, but it did not seem to me the usual stepparent conflict. Mrs. Quito insists her ex-husband is involved, but a kidnapping by a non-custodial parent usually happens within the first year or two after the loss of custody. Mrs. Quito and Mr. Winters have been divorced for five years and Mr. Winters has never sued to regain custody. He never even sued to change his monthly visitation. I need to talk to him._

Frank looked over his shoulder at Joe. "What do you think?"

"I think we need to retrace Nancy's steps. We need to talk to all the same people she did."

Frank nodded in agreement. "That's what I think, too. Let's take this with us." He queued the document for printing. He also printed the file where he'd stored the information from Nancy's browser. "Ned, will you tell Mr. Drew and Bess what we found? I want to get home and start working on this right away. I want to do some background research on these people."

"Sure."

"And try not to worry." Frank put a reassuring hand on Ned's shoulder. "I'll keep all of you informed of our progress."

"Thanks."

They dropped Ned off at his car by Nick's Coffee Shop and returned to their apartment. It was nearly six o'clock by the time they got home.

"Man, I'm starving," Joe said. "I'll start dinner."

Frank caught him by the wrist. "Do you want your reward before or after dinner?"

Joe grinned. "Maybe I'm not that hungry! And I know sex helps focus your thoughts."

"That's kind of what I was thinking."

"Cool! Let's go to bed. I'll cook later."

They moved into the bedroom, shedding their clothing as they went.

"I really like this," Joe said as he crawled onto the bed and rolled onto his back. "We can do this whenever we want and not worry about Dad walking in on us." He sat up on his elbows. "He doesn't have a key, right?"

"Are you kidding?" Frank laughed. "You and I are the only ones with keys. Once I've got you in a compromising position, I don't want anyone interrupting us." He climbed onto the bed and lifted Joe's heels up onto his shoulders. "Hand me the lubricant, would you? It's in the top drawer of the nightstand."

Joe stuck in arm into the drawer and felt around. "Oh, here it is." He handed the tube to Frank and pushed the drawer shut. "Don't people look at you funny when you buy this stuff?"

"That's what self-check at the grocery store is for."

"Aha."

Frank squeezed the lubricant onto his fingers and worked the cream into Joe. Joe arched his back with a sigh.

"That really feels good. It's been like a month since you've been in me."

"No it hasn't!" Frank chuckled. "You just want it all the time."

"And you don't?"

Frank chuckled again. "Maybe I do." He shifted forward and put himself into Joe with a firm thrust of his hips. Joe gasped and grabbed Frank's knees. Frank pounded his hips firmly against Joe's bottom, driving himself in hard and deep.

"Oh yes!" Joe groaned. "Keep doing that!"

Frank kept doing it, grinding himself against Joe until they were both moaning with deep pleasure.

"Ahh!" Joe finally cried aloud. His head rolled back and he arched up, pressing his backside against Frank as orgasm sent shuddering spasms through his body. Frank grabbed Joe's thighs and groaned deeply in response, his body shaking as orgasm swept him too. "Oh!" Joe gasped as his body slowly unclenched. "I really, really like doing this with you, Frank. That was so good!"

"Oh yeah!" Frank agreed. "I can't imagine doing this with anyone but you." He patted Joe's legs. "And you know what? It helped. I just realized something. I think Nancy suspected the mother of knowing something."

"Really? I didn't see that."

"The mother kept insisting her ex-husband was involved, but I don't think Nancy believed it. She hadn't talked to the ex-husband yet, but her notes didn't make it sound like she thought he was responsible. We need to interview the Quito's and we need to talk to the ex-husband. I want to get a feel for these people."

"But you'll Google them first, right?"

"Definitely." Frank pulled out of Joe and sat back. "Do you mind cooking while I search?"

"Nope. But print everything. I want to go over it with you while we eat."

"Will do."


	2. Mr and Mrs Quito

**Um… Gee…** Please read the warning. It's a serious warning. I'm not sure if the first review was serious or not.

**Warning**: This story includes as an on-going sub-plot an incestuous homosexual relationship between Frank and Joe Hardy. This chapter contains strong sexual content and suggestive language.

-o-o-o-

Chapter 2: **Mr. and Mrs. Quito**

"Frank! Dinner's on!"

"Ok! I'll be right there."

The dining area next to the kitchen, at one end of the living room, was large enough to hold a table and four chairs. Joe was just pouring the beer into glasses when Frank walked over carrying a stack of papers.

"I found quite a lot of stuff on Mr. August Quito." Frank waggled the papers. "He has more failed businesses than a dot-com venture capitalist."

"Oh yeah?" Joe took his seat and began serving himself. "What kind of business?"

"All kinds. It's sort of suspicious, if you ask me. Where does he keep getting the money to start another business when the previous one fails?" Frank sat down and sipped his beer. "I mean, look at this." He shuffled the papers for a moment and then shoved a sheet toward Joe. "Three years ago he started a dry cleaning business. It failed after six months. Less than a month later, he starts a sandwich shop and it fails after two months. He went through a ten year span like this."

Joe studied the sheet thoughtfully. "That is weird. Does he have a business right now?"

"Yeah. In fact, his current business is actually successful, by his standards. He's owns a hardware store in River Heights. But he bought the business from the previous owner."

"Where'd he get the money for that?"

"I can't figure that out." Frank flipped through the papers. "As near as I can tell, he didn't have a business for a couple of years before he bought the hardware store. He bought it about the same time he married Estelle Winters."

"Did she have money?"

"No. And her ex, Thomas Winters, was a high school counselor. He had close to nothing when they divorced and she made sure she got all of it."

"So Quito has been able to come up with money pretty much whenever he needs it," Joe said.

"That appears to be the case."

"If you ask me, he's either a crook or he's laundering money for someone."

"Which means he's a crook," Frank concluded.

"Yeah," Joe agreed. "We should go talk to him."

"We'll need a reason."

"Let's use the truth," Joe grinned. "We can tell them we're looking for Nancy. That might shake something up."

"Possibly." Frank held up his fork. "This dinner is very good, by the way. You're a much better cook than I am."

"You bet I am!" Joe winked at him. "You can do the dishes."

"Sounds fair."

"And I'll warm up the bed."

Frank laughed. "Already planning Round 2?"

"And maybe Round 3, too!"

-o-o-o-

In the morning, Frank called the Quito house. He was just finishing the call when Joe came out of the bathroom still damp from his shower.

"Did you get hold of someone?"

"I talked to the maid," Frank replied. "She said Mr. Quito had already left for work and Mrs. Quito was still in bed. But she said if we show up around 10am, Mrs. Quito should be up." Frank grinned. "I don't think the maid likes her mistress. She said I could show up earlier if I felt like it and she would just wake Mrs. Quito."

Joe frowned. "That doesn't sound like a woman worried about her missing child."

"No it doesn't. Let's go talk to her while her husband's not there. Then we can corner Mr. Quito at work."

"Sounds like a plan. You better hop in the shower. I'll whip something together for breakfast."

"Ok."

The Quito house on the edge of River Heights was large and lavish. A six-foot brick wall with wrought iron decorations on top encompassed three sides of the property, enclosing an extensive garden. The fourth side, facing the street, was closed off by an elaborate wrought iron fence, but the heavy gate at the foot of the driveway stood open. Frank drove up to the house and stopped in the circular driveway, which contained a small fountain at the center.

"Good lord!" Joe exclaimed. "I feel like I just stepped into Beverly Hills."

"It does seem a little elaborate for the neighborhood, doesn't it?"

"Just a little."

They walked up to the front door and rang the bell. The maid who answered the door looked Hispanic, but her accent was slight.

"May I help you?"

"Hi, my name is Frank Hardy and this is my brother Joe. I called earlier about speaking to Mrs. Quito."

"Oh yes, sir. I answered the phone." There was a hint of mischievousness in the maid's smile. "Please come in. I just took Mrs. Quito her coffee. I'll tell her you're here." The maid held the door open and stepped aside so they could enter. "Please go through there into the parlor." She pointed to a wide arched opening on their left.

"Thank you."

The maid closed the door and immediately started up the wide curving stairs that rose from the back of the entry hall. Joe stopped and looked up at the high vaulted ceiling, from which a large crystal chandelier hung.

"That thing must be a bitch to dust."

Frank laughed. "I bet it is." He led the way into the parlor. "This is pretty fancy for River Heights."

"It seems a lot to afford on the profits from a single hardware store, too. Are you sure that's the only business he's got going right now?"

"The only legitimate one." Frank met Joe's eyes and lifted an eyebrow. "But right now, I'd give even money that he's got something dirty on the side."

Joe nodded in agreement.

They waited nearly fifteen minutes before Mrs. Estelle Quito made her appearance. She was clearly enjoying the roll of the wealthy lady. She floated into the room in a chiffon robe with her long blond hair swept up into an artful spill of curls on the top of her head. She held out a perfectly manicured hand.

"Good morning, I don't believe I've made you're acquaintance." Her manner of speech sounded affected.

Frank clasped her hand briefly. "We haven't met, Mrs. Quito. We're sorry to bother you so early, but we're hoping you'll be able to help us with something."

Estelle put a hand to her chest. "Me? How can I be of assistance to you?"

"Mrs. Quito, I understand your daughter is missing and you hired Nancy Drew to find her."

"Have you been speaking to the police?" For a moment, Estelle dropped her affected manner.

"No, ma'am. I'm afraid we know nothing about your daughter's case," Frank lied smoothly. "We're friends of Nancy. I'm afraid Nancy is now missing and we were hoping something you might have told her would give us a clue where to look for her."

"Miss Drew is missing?" Estelle stumbled to a chair and collapsed into it. "No wonder I haven't heard from her! The last thing she told me was that she was planning to speak to my ex-husband. I know he's the one who has my daughter. There's no where else she would go." Estelle's voice became harsh and accusing.

"Have you and your ex-husband fought about your daughter recently?"

"I hardly ever speak to Thomas. But Jolene told me he wanted to take her to Europe this summer. I refused, of course. Jolene attends a year-round school."

"So you think perhaps they went anyway."

"Yes, I do! And once he has her out of the country, I know he won't bring her back. All this time he's pretended not to care about his visitation rights! I know he's been planning this. It's just the sneaky sort of thing he would do!"

Joe and Frank exchanged a quick look.

"Did Nancy say anything else? Anything you discussed with her might be helpful."

"No, there was nothing else." Estelle spoke quickly and Frank watched her with narrowed eyes. "We just talked about Thomas and Jolene."

"Ok. I guess we'll have to work from that. Thank you for taking the time to speak with us, Mrs. Quito."

"Are you detectives too, Mr. Hardy?"

"No, just friends of Nancy," Frank lied again. "We don't know that her disappearance has anything to do with your case; we're just following up on everything she's been doing recently. Thanks again for your time."

"You're welcome, Mr. Hardy." She offered her hand again and Frank took it. "Why don't you give me your number? If I think of anything, I'll call you." She fixed her large blue eyes on Frank's face and smiled coyly.

"Uh, sure." Frank told her the number and they retreated to the front door.

Outside, Joe lifted an eyebrow at Frank. "I think she was flirting with you just then."

"I think so too." Frank frowned. "What kind of woman whose child is missing flirts with a stranger in the parlor of the house she shares with her second husband?"

"A very self-centered one. If she was my mother, I think I'd run away too."

"Yeah. The police may have a point." Frank started the car. "Let's go talk to August Quito. I'm starting to get a really bad feeling about this."

"Me too."

-o-o-o-

River Heights Hardware was a thriving business. The big parking lot out front was nearly filled and dozens of patrons went about their shopping inside. Frank and Joe approached one of the clerks as soon as they entered.

"Is the owner of the store, Mr. Quito, available?"

"I think he's in his office. It's in the back." The clerk pointed. "Go through the swinging doors at the end of Aisle 7. His office is on the right side, marked 'Private'."

"Thanks."

The office had a frosted glass pane set in it with the word 'Private' painted on it in large white letters. There was a light on inside and they could hear someone talking, although the words could not be distinguished. Frank knocked on the door.

"One minute!" someone called from inside. They waited and heard the conversation inside the room end. "Come in!"

Frank opened the door. "Mr. Quito?"

"That's me." August Quito stood up behind his cluttered desk. He was a good-looking man with wavy brown hair neatly trimmed above his ears and a clean-shaven face. He was the same height as Frank, but a little heavier in build. He looked like he worked out. He was dressed casually in a polo shirt and slacks. "What can I do for you?"

They stepped into the room and closed the door. "My name is Frank Hardy, Mr. Quito. This is my brother Joe. We're friends of Nancy Drew. We understand she was helping to look for your wife's missing daughter."

"That's right. Do you know something about that?" August regarded them with a faintly suspicious expression.

"Not about your stepdaughter. It's about Nancy. She's missing."

"Really?" August sank down in his chair with a surprised look on his face. "Since when? We just talked to her a few days ago."

"She's been missing for a few days."

"Wow! Were we the last ones to speak to her?" August leaned forward and folded his arms on his desk. "I had no idea."

"We're not sure. We're just trying to retrace her steps to see if something she was involved with might have something to do with her disappearance."

"Well, I'll certainly help in any way I can. Nancy seemed so professional. She certainly helped put my wife's mind at ease." August rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I think she was planning to get in touch with my wife's ex-husband." Then he shrugged apologetically. "That's really all I can remember right now. You might try asking my wife. She may remember more."

"Thanks, Mr. Quito. We'll do that. We appreciate any help we can get."

"I hope you find her. I'd feel terrible if something happened to her because she was helping us." August's eyes slid to Joe and he looked the young man up and down with a faintly lustful smile. "Forgive me for asking, but have you ever been a model, or maybe considered a modeling career? You have the looks for it: slender and beautiful. Your type often appeals to both men and women." He licked his lips quickly.

"No," Joe replied shortly. "Modeling doesn't interest me."

"Too bad. I have connections. I could probably get you in."

"Thanks anyway."

"Oh well." His eyes moved reluctantly back to Frank. "Was there anything else?"

"No. But if we think of anything, can we call you?"

"Sure." August's eyes went back to Joe. "Call me anytime."

Outside the office, Joe shuddered. "That man gives me the creeps!"

"I know what you mean." Frank frowned. "No wonder Nancy didn't trust this couple. My instincts are totally twigged. Something's going on here and I don't like it."

"We need to find Thomas Winters. We need to find out if Nancy talked to him." Joe glanced back toward the office. "Do you think he knows more about Nancy than he's saying?"

"I'm not sure. Let's go back to the apartment. I want to do some more research. We can also try to find out if Thomas Winters is back in the country."

"Ok." As he climbed into the car, Joe shuddered again. "What is it about me that makes people want to get into my pants? Because I'd swear that's what he was thinking."

Frank smiled at him. "He said it. You've got that kind of look."

"Maybe I should gain some weight."

"I don't think it would help."

"Damn!"

"Would it make you feel better if I said I like the way you look?"

Joe chuckled. "I suppose that's a good thing since you're the one person I do want trying to get into my pants." Joe pursed his lips. "But now I'm wondering if August Quito is bisexual."

"Or just plain homosexual and he married Estelle to hide it. She did come on to me."

"True. But that would rule out the possibility of child abuse being the reason why Jolene ran away."

"If she did run away."

"Right."

Frank sighed. "We've been looking into this case for less than a day and it's already getting all twisted up. I'm really starting to worry about Nancy."

Joe nodded. "So am I."

-o-o-o-

Back at the apartment, Joe immediately headed for the kitchen. "I'm going to make some sandwiches. You want a beer?"

"Yeah, thanks." Frank settled in front of the computer in the corner of the living room. "I'm going to Google August Quito again. There has to be something I missed the first time."

"Why don't you Google some of his failed businesses? Maybe a name will pop out."

"You mean like a partner or something?"

"Yeah."

"Good idea. I'll try that."

Frank fell silent as he tapped away at the computer. Joe joined him a short while later with a plate of sandwiches and two beers.

"You never did mention how you managed to buy beer. Last time I checked, twenty is still underage for buying beer in this country."

Frank laughed. "I have connections. A few months ago, one of Dad's new group buddies succumbed to temptation and bought beer. He felt guilty about it though and asked Dad to get rid of it for him. I took it off Dad's hands and told him he should tell his buddy to just bring it to me if it happens again and I'll dispose of it for him. Fortunately for us, he's got no will power, so he buys the beer every week and just brings it to me. Apparently, it makes him feel better."

"He doesn't drink it?"

"No, he just buys it."

"That's weird."

"You remember what Dad was like when he first went on the wagon."

"That's true. He developed a few odd quirks."

"Yeah, just a few," Frank chuckled. "Hey, this is interesting." He pointed at the monitor. "That's the third time I've seen this name: Walter Surrey."

"Who is he?"

"I don't know. Let's see what Google says." Frank typed in the name. "Whoa! Look at that!" He sat back as the screen filled up with hits.

"Half of those references are indictments!" Joe exclaimed.

"More than half." Frank reached for the mouse. "Let's see what we've got."

After a half-hour of reading, Frank sat back and turned to Joe. "Walter Surrey has got to be involved in organized crime. Nobody gets indicted that many times and never gets convicted of anything."

"Damn right!" Joe agreed. "And he and August Quito go way back. But how come Quito has never been indicted for anything? He must have been laundering money for Surrey with all those failed businesses."

Frank nodded. "I agree. But somehow, he has always managed to keep his nose clean."

"Maybe he has something on Surrey."

"That's an interesting thought." Frank stared at the monitor for a moment. "I need to think about this for awhile. I need to do a little mental digesting."

Joe grinned. "Let's go to bed. You do your best thinking there."

"So you keep telling me." Frank put the computer in standby and followed Joe into the bedroom. "What if," Frank began as he undressed, "Walter Surrey is skimming money and hiding it by supposedly investing in these 'legitimate' businesses that subsequently fail? He could hide a lot of money by juggling the books and then take a huge tax write-off when the business goes belly-up."

"Skimming money from whom, though? The mob? That's pretty dangerous." Joe crawled naked onto the bed on his hands and knees and looked over his shoulder at Frank. "This has been going on for at least twenty years. It's hard to believe they could get away with it for that long."

"Yeah." Frank retrieved the lubricant from the nightstand and got behind Joe. "Normally, one launders money earned illegally to make it look legal, but what if they're doing just the opposite? What if they're siphoning money out of these legitimate businesses and using it for illicit purposes?" He began applying the lubricant slowly and Joe let out a soft moan. "It's not uncommon for a new business to fail. If there aren't a lot of outside investors wondering what happened to their money, no one is going to look that closely at the books. And if the few investors they have are more interested in the tax write-off than the profits, no one's going to say a thing."

"That makes sense. But then what are they doing with the money?"

"I have no idea."

"Why don't you think with your dick for a while? Maybe it will come to you."

"You just want to get fucked."

"Living alone with you like this is turning me on."

"I can't argue with that. I've had a hard-on since you first walked in the door yesterday." He grasped Joe by the hips and rammed himself in with a firm thrust. "You always feel so good."

With a deep groan, Joe dropped onto his elbows and rested his forehead on one arm. "You think I feel good? You should feel it from my end. The harder your cock is, the harder you get me and I'm really hard right now. Ah!"

"Don't come too soon!" Frank groaned. "I'm ready for a nice long fuck."

"Ohh!" Joe gasped and his body shuddered. "Sorry! I couldn't wait. But keep going. I've got another one building up."

"You youngsters!" Frank gasped. "You never hold on long enough to savor the arousal."

"Get me off again and I'll be happy to savor the third one!" Joe grunted. "Just keep fucking!"

"You're gonna owe me two more after dinner."

"Always happy to pay my debts, big brother."


	3. Jolene Winters

**Warning**: This story includes as an on-going sub-plot an incestuous homosexual relationship between Frank and Joe Hardy. This chapter contains strong sexual content and suggestive language.

-o-o-o-

Chapter 3: **Jolene Winters**

"Ah! Ah! Ah!" Joe gasped. "Deeper!"

"Unh!" Frank grunted. Hot water sluiced over his skin and streamed down Joe's back, getting him wetter. It felt really good. Frank closed his eyes as he rammed himself deeper and deeper into Joe.

"Ah! Yes! That's it! Ohh!" Joe cried aloud as he climaxed, his body shaking. "Oh, man!" he groaned. "That was totally hot."

"Oh yeah!" Frank agreed. He leaned back against the shower wall and let the water splash over him. "The shower was one of the final deciding factors when I picked this place. I knew it would be big enough for both of us."

Joe turned around and put his hands on Frank's shoulders. "I still can't believe you got it. It's perfect. A lot of students must have been trying to rent it."

Frank chuckled. "The truth is the building owner doesn't like renting to students so he overprices the units to keep them out. I explained that I would be sharing the place with my little brother while we worked and attended college and wouldn't have time for the kind of nonsense that some college kids get into. That satisfied him so he offered me a reasonable rent if I'd sign a long-term lease." Frank put his arms around Joe's waist. "I didn't think he needed to know that we would be fucking every chance we got."

"Yeah, he didn't need to know that." Joe kissed him on the cheek. "So, what's the plan for today?"

"I want to find out more about the missing daughter. Is she a runaway, with her dad, or something else?" Frank rubbed his hands thoughtfully up and down Joe's back. "Her disappearance probably doesn't have anything to do with her step-dad's shady business dealings, but I want to rule that out, just to be safe. If she did run away and Nancy got a lead on her, it might give us another clue about Nancy's disappearance."

"Good idea." Joe turned off the water. "We should install one of those shower heads with a flow restrictor so we don't waste as much water when we're fucking."

Frank nodded. He stepped out of the shower, took two towels off the rack and handed one to Joe. "Mrs. Quito said Jolene attended a year-round school. I think school is in session right now so we can talk to her teachers and some of her friends. Their names are in Nancy's notes."

"Ok. And shouldn't the administration office have contact information for Thomas Winters?"

"They should. We can ask while we're there."

"They probably won't tell us anything. We're not even licensed detectives, much less official law enforcement officers."

"Have you forgotten?" Frank said. "Remember last summer when Dad hired me to help out doing paperwork for his office? He gave me an official ID. I still have it."

Joe grinned. "That's sneaky."

"True, but if anyone calls the number on my ID, they'll get Dad's office and no one there is going to say I have no business doing what I'm doing."

"But then Dad will ask questions."

Frank hung his towel neatly back on the rack. "Probably, but we'll use the truth again. Dad won't argue if we tell him we're trying to find Nancy."

"Should we feel guilty that we're so good at manipulating Dad?"

"Nah. It makes him feel needed. Let's get dressed before looking at your ass gets me hot again."

After breakfast, Frank and Joe drove back to River Heights to the River Heights Achievement Academy, a private year-round co-ed school. The Academy actually consisted of two schools, which they referred to rather pretentiously as the Upper and Lower Schools. The Upper School served grades seven through twelve. The Lower School served grades one though six.

The Academy office had a long counter inside the door that separated the office from the waiting area. Four desks and several filing cabinets stood in the open area on the other side of the counter. Four doors in the back wall and two more on the right side gave admittance to private offices. Another door on the left had a little sign hanging over it that said "Nurse".

Frank had suggested that they both dress like professionals, in suits and ties. Frank actually had a suit, but Joe only had a sport coat, which he now wore over his nicest pair of slacks. Frank smiled to himself. Joe looked extremely handsome and disarming when he dressed up.

As soon as they entered, a young woman seated at one of the desks rose and approached the counter. "May I help you?"

"I hope so." Frank smiled his most charming smile. "We are assisting a colleague who is searching for a missing child: Jolene Winters. I believe she attended school here."

"Oh yes!" the young woman nodded immediately. Her pretty face took on a worried expression. "We are so worried about Jolene! Has Miss Drew not found her?"

"I'm afraid not. She asked us to revisit some of her interviews to see if we might learn anything that she overlooked." Frank took Nancy's notes out of his pocket and scanned them. "Miss Drew interviewed Jolene's teacher and three of her friends. I wonder if I might be allowed to speak to the same people. Of course, I would like a school administrator there while I speak to the children, if you'll allow me to interview them."

"Let me get Mrs. Durbin, our principal. You'll have to ask her. One moment." The young woman hurried to one of the offices at the back and knocked on the door. After a brief pause, she poked her head inside. A moment later, an older woman appeared in the door of the office. She was neatly dressed in a dark suit with a knee length skirt. Her graying hair was trimmed short in a style that flattered her narrow face. She was all business when she approached the counter.

"May I see some identification, please?"

"Of course." Frank produced his ID badge and handed it to her. Her lips moved slightly as she read his name and the company name on the badge. Then she studied the picture and Frank's face.

She handed the badge back. "Thank you, Mr. Hardy. Alice says you're following up on Jolene's disappearance?"

"That's right. Miss Drew asked us to re-interview the people she talked to here at the Academy to see if we might learn anything different that would help in the search. I don't want to take up a lot of your time"

"It's not a problem," Mrs. Durbin said gravely. "We've never had a student disappear before and we are very concerned about seeing her brought home safely." She lifted a panel in the counter. "Please come in. You can use my office. The morning break is about to start. I'll have Miss Kerney come to the office first and then the three students."

"You remember which students Miss Drew interviewed?"

"Yes," Mrs. Durbin said. Her voice was grim. "This is a very unusual and worrisome situation for us. Please come this way." She led them back to her office. "Please sit down." The office was fairly deep, allowing room for a small round meeting table with six chairs, in addition to a large desk and a few filing cabinets. Joe and Frank sat at the table. Mrs. Durbin went to her desk to use the telephone. "It's Rose," she said into the handset. "Come to my office when the break starts. Yes. Thanks." She hung up. "This is Miss Kerney's second year with us. She's a very good teacher and very popular with the students. Jolene's disappearance has hit her quite hard."

Frank and Joe stood up when a young woman entered the office a few minutes later. She was an attractive black woman with dark skin and hair trimmed very close to her head.

"Shut the door, Chloe," Mrs. Durbin said. She indicated Frank. "This is Frank Hardy. He's working with Nancy Drew on Jolene's disappearance."

"How do you do, Mr. Hardy?" Chloe Kerney had a rich musical voice. She held out a slim brown hand.

Frank shook her hand. "A pleasure, Miss Kerney. This is my brother Joe Hardy. He's interning at our office. Please sit down." When they were all seated, Frank resumed. "Miss Kerney, I have a summary of Miss Drew's prior interview with you, so I'd like to go over that quickly first. My goal is to see if there is anything else you might be able to tell us that might provide another clue to Jolene's disappearance."

"I'll tell you as much as I can, Mr. Hardy," Chloe said, "but I truly don't know why Jolene would run away. She always seemed so happy in school."

"She was doing well in class?"

"Very well. Jolene is a bright girl and very hard-working. She always completed here homework on time and worked diligently on all her classroom projects. She never missed a day of school until…" Chloe stopped and her eyes brightened. "I called her house the first day she missed class when no one called to say she was sick. Her mother was shocked when she learned Jolene had not been at school all day."

"You spoke to Mrs. Quito?"

"Yes. I suggested she call the police and report Jolene missing."

"Do you know if she did?"

"I think so, because the police came to talk to me a few days later."

"Not the next day?"

"No."

Frank sat back with a frown. Beside him, Joe took diligent notes.

"Miss Kerney, have you met Jolene's father, Thomas Winters?"

"No, I'm afraid I haven't."

"Do you know if he's ever picked his daughter up from school?"

"Not that I'm aware of." She glanced at Mrs. Durbin.

"Mr. Winters would have to sign in at the office to pick up Jolene," Mrs. Durbin said. "He's not on her approval list."

"He's not? Isn't that unusual?"

"Not always," Mrs. Durbin replied. "After a divorce, the custodial parent will often deny access to the non-custodial parent. Sometimes it's to protect the child. Other times it's just out of spite or vindictiveness."

"What do you think it is in this case?"

Mrs. Durbin didn't answer right away. "I would have to say spite. Mrs. Quito's bitterness toward her ex-husband always seemed rather excessive to me. Mr. Winters is a rather soft-spoken and gentle man. I understand he was well-liked as a counselor at the public high school. He left that position after the divorce, I believe."

"I see." Frank glanced at Joe briefly before returning his attention to Chloe. "Miss Kerney, did you ever hear Jolene say anything that might indicate she was unhappy at home?"

"Well…" Chloe paused thoughtfully. "One time she arrived at school early and asked if she could sit in the classroom to finish her homework. I was surprised because she always had her homework finished on time before, so I asked her if there was a problem at home. She said no, it was just that her parents had had a big fight and she had been too upset to finish her homework. So I let her stay in the classroom. It never happened again."

"You don't remember anything else?"

"No. Jolene always came to school neat, clean and ready to learn. Children with trouble at home always act out in some way. She never did."

"Hmm." Frank leaned over to glance at the notes Joe was making. Then he looked at Nancy's notes again. "I think that's all the questions I have for you, Miss Kerney. I appreciate your time very much."

"I hope you find her, Mr. Hardy. Jolene's such a nice girl. I'm terribly worried about her." Chloe's big dark eyes started to look wet and she brushed at the corner of one eye quickly with her fingertip.

"Thank you, Chloe," Mrs. Durbin said. "When you get back to your classroom, would you please send Abby, Kate and Angela to my office?"

"Yes, Rose." Chloe left, closing the door behind her.

Mrs. Durbin tapped her fingers on the table. "It's very unusual for good students who are happy at home to run away," she remarked casually.

"Yes," Frank agreed. "But if something unexpected or frightening happens it might precipitate it."

"True."

"These three girls are close friends of Jolene?"

"Yes. The four of them have been close since the third grade." A timid knock on the door announced the arrival of the three students. "Come in!"

The door opened to admit three attractive preteen girls. Two were blonds and the third had long dark hair.

Mrs. Durbin waved them into the office and pointed to the chairs. "Sit down girls. These gentlemen want to talk to you about Jolene."

"Did you find her?" the dark haired girl demanded immediately.

"I'm afraid not," Frank replied gravely. "That's why I wanted to ask you a few more questions."

"She didn't run away!" the dark haired girl interrupted.

"Abby!" Mrs. Durbin said sternly. "Mind your manners!"

The girl hung her head. "Sorry Mrs. Durbin!"

Frank smiled. "It's all right. Why don't you think she ran away?"

"Because Jolene liked school too much. She's the best student in our class."

"That's right," one of the blonds spoke up. "Kate and I always have to ask for her class notes because we never seem to get everything written down right." She giggled and then looked guilty at Mrs. Durbin's stern expression.

"Was Jolene having problems at home?"

"Not really," Abby replied with a shrug. "Her mom's kind of flaky and sometimes she ignores Jolene, but she's ok."

"Did you ever meet Jolene's father?"

"Do you mean her step-dad or her real dad? I never met her real dad."

"I did!" Angela piped up again. "He came by the school once to give Jolene a birthday present. He seemed really nice. But her step-dad's real cute!"

"He's creepy though!" Abby said with a shudder. "He's always too nice, like the kind of guy they tell you to watch out for when he offers you candy or rides."

"Did he offer you candy or rides?"

"No, he just feels like that type. Kind of… you know… oily."

Frank and Joe exchanged a long look.

Kate spoke for the first time. "Jolene said once she was glad she didn't have any brothers."

Frank started. "When did she say that?"

"I don't know. A couple of weeks ago, maybe."

"So not that long before she disappeared."

"I guess."

"Why did she say that?"

Kate shrugged. "I don't know. She's an only child, like me, and we were talking about how it would be nice if we had a sister. That's when she said it."

"So she might have just meant that she'd rather have a sister than a brother?"

"Yeah, maybe."

"Did Jolene ever talk about going to Europe?"

"Yeah," Abby said. "She said her dad, her real dad, wanted to take her for the summer. We were all jealous, but then her mom wouldn't let her go. Jolene was real bummed out."

"Do you think she was more disappointed about not getting to go to Europe or not getting to spend time with her dad?"

"I think she wanted to spend time with her dad," Kate said. "She hardly ever got to see him and she missed him a lot. He only got to take her one weekend a month and her mom was always forgetting the day and scheduling doctor appointments and stuff."

"Do you think her mom was doing it on purpose?"

Kate shrugged and then nodded silently.

"Her mom really hates her dad," Abby exclaimed. "You should hear the way she talks about him. It makes you wonder why she ever married him in the first place. I bet she was doing it on purpose."

"Do you think Jolene would rather live with her dad?"

"She might, but her dad's kind of poor now. I don't think he could afford to send her here and she likes this school. Sometimes you have to make hard choices," Abby said wisely.

Frank lifted an eyebrow. It was odd hearing such a mature statement coming out of someone so young. He favored the three girls with a friendly smile. "Thank you very much for your honesty. You've been very helpful."

"Do you think you'll find Jolene?" Kate asked. She bit her lip unhappily.

"We're going to do our very best." Frank glanced at Mrs. Durbin and nodded slightly.

"All right, girls, back to class." Mrs. Durbin rose and opened the door. "Please do not distract your classmates by talking about this."

"We won't."

When the girls were gone, Mrs. Durbin turned back to Frank. "Is there anything else we can do to help, Mr. Hardy?"

Frank stood up. "Not at this time, Mrs. Durbin. Thank you very much for allowing us to speak to Miss Kerney and the students. We will be reviewing our notes with Nancy and hopefully a new clue will come out of it."

"I hope so."

Frank and Joe each shook hands with Mrs. Durbin and started to leave, but then Frank paused. "There is one other thing. Do you have an address for Thomas Winters?"

"Yes, but I'm afraid it's not current. When Jolene disappeared, we tried to reach him at the number we have on file but his phone had been disconnected. Apparently, he moved from that address several months ago."

"I see. Thanks." They left the office and did not speak to each other until they were inside Frank's car and safely out of anyone's hearing.

"You know," said Joe, "I'm not sure if I'm relieved or horrified that Abby picked up on the same creepy feeling that August Quito gave me."

"Kids are way more observant than most people give them credit for," Frank said. "If Abby noticed it, how much you want to bet that Jolene felt that way too, especially since she was around him a lot more?"

Joe nodded. "I bet she did. But that comment she made about being glad she had no brothers..." He gave Frank a knowing look.

"And he came on to you," Frank said. He stared at Joe. "He likes boys and Jolene knew it."

"I think you're right." Joe drummed his fingers on his knee. "But then she had no reason to be afraid of him personally, so there was no reason for her to leave home."

"Not that reason, anyway." Frank started the car. "We need to find Thomas Winters. We need to know if Nancy talked to him but never got the chance to update her notes."

"Everyone says Thomas Winters is a quiet, mild-mannered guy, but those are always the ones who go postal when you least expect it. If he did take Jolene and Nancy found out about it…"

"Let's not mention that train of thought to anyone yet," Frank said quietly. "Let's see if we can find him first."

"Yeah," Joe agreed, but the grim frown did not leave his face.


	4. Thomas Winters

**Warning**: This story includes as an on-going sub-plot an incestuous homosexual relationship between Frank and Joe Hardy. This chapter contains strong sexual content and suggestive language.

-o-o-o-

Chapter 4: **Thomas Winters**

"Maybe we should try the high school," Joe said. "If Thomas Winters still has friends there, maybe someone will have a current address or phone number for him."

Frank nodded. "We can try that. But if it doesn't pan out, we may have to talk to the police, although I'd rather they didn't know we are working on this." Frank bit his lip and frowned. "If Estelle Quito really hates her ex-husband that much, she may have been trying to drive him away and alienate him from Jolene."

"Yeah, but it doesn't sound like she was having much success. Jolene's friends made it sound like she really likes her dad."

"True, but how much abuse can a guy take? When something gets to be too painful, most people just start avoiding the cause of the pain."

"So is Thomas Winters the kind of guy who just fades away or does he kidnap Jolene and disappear?"

"If we can't talk to him, talking to people who knew him might shed some light on it. We'll stop at the high school before we go home, in case someone there can help us."

"Right."

River Heights High School was in summer session and classes were just ending when Frank tried to turn into the small parking lot in front of the Administration building. A plump woman wearing an orange vest and carrying a stop sign stepped in his path with a raised hand.

"No students or parents in visitor parking, please."

Frank rolled down his window. "I'm here to speak to the principal, or whoever is the senior administrator on campus at the moment."

"Oh." The woman moved aside. "Go ahead then. Go through the double doors there and ask for Mr. Curry. He's the vice principal."

"Thanks." Frank drove into the parking lot and parked in a space marked 'Visitor'.

"Man, they're pretty strict here," Joe remarked.

"I guess they have to be." Frank glanced back at the street, where cars lined the road to the corners in both directions. "Bayport High wasn't this bad. But River Heights has more people."

They entered through the double doors and found themselves in a short hallway with offices on both sides. At the end of the hall, a single large room contained several desks completely surrounded by a chest high counter. Frank and Joe walked up to the counter. A woman looked at them from her desk, but she didn't get up.

"Can I help you?"

"We'd like to speak to Mr. Curry."

"Oh, sure. His office is the third door on the right." She waved a hand vaguely off to one side and returned her attention to her computer screen.

"Thanks." Frank led the way to the indicated office. The door was open, but Frank rapped on the panel anyway.

Mr. Curry was plump and well into middle-age, but he had the look of someone who used to be quite handsome. His hair had receded to a gray fringe around a pale dome of scalp and he sported a thick gray mustache. But his smile was quite jovial as he stood up from behind his desk. "Good afternoon, gentlemen," he said cheerfully. "I'm Chris Curry, vice principal. What can I do for you?"

"My name is Frank Hardy. This is my brother Joe. We're trying to locate Thomas Winters and we were hoping you might have a current phone number or address for him."

Chris' jovial smile faded. "Tom's not in trouble, is he?"

"Not that I know of," Frank said carefully, "but we do need to speak to him."

Chris hesitated for a moment looking very unhappy, and then he stepped around his desk and closed the door. "Please sit down." He indicated one chair that was already positioned in front of his desk and picked up another from beside the door and moved it next to the first. He edged back around behind his desk and sank down into his own seat with a heavy sigh. He rubbed a hand across the top of his bald head. "You're not reporters are you?"

"No." Frank was completely surprised. "Have reporters asked about Thomas Winters before?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Chris leaned forward and rested his arms on his desk. He twisted his hands together. "There was a… an incident and Tom was forced to quit. It's been years though and I had hoped he'd finally put it behind him."

"I wasn't aware of that," Frank said. "We just need to talk to Mr. Winters about his daughter Jolene. Are you aware that she is missing?"

"No, I wasn't!" Chris said in a stunned voice. "When did this happen?"

"It's been a few weeks. Mr. Winters' ex-wife believes he is responsible."

Chris stared. "Tom would never do anything to harm Jolene. He loves his daughter more than anything in the world. That's why he quit when… when the rumors started; to protect her."

Frank glanced at Joe. "Mr. Curry, you appear to have been a good friend of Thomas Winters', so I'll be honest with you. His ex-wife has accused him of abducting Jolene and no one knows where he is right now. It looks pretty bad. If you can tell us anything, it might help."

Chris licked his lips. "That woman! I can't believe how vindictive she is. Tom cried after the divorce, when he lost custody. There was no reason…" He licked his lips again and stared down at his hands.

Frank leaned forward. "Mr. Curry, your friend's future may depend on your honesty. What happened? Why was Thomas Winters forced to quit his job? Is that what led to his divorce? What rumors are you talking about?"

Chris scrubbed his hand across his head again and his cheeks quivered. "Tom…" he began in a faint voice and stopped to clear his throat. "Tom is gay. He and I…" He paused and cleared his throat again. "We had a relationship. While he was still married. No one knew." He stared at them anxiously. "No one ever knew. Tom was a student counselor and he advised the journalism club. That year, the editor of the student paper wrote an article about a gay student having an affair with a teacher. Everyone suspected the article was autobiographical and that the teacher was Tom. There were rumors all over campus. Tom denied it, but he was afraid our relationship would be discovered, so he quit. Right after that, his wife filed for divorce and said it was because he was gay. I wanted to keep seeing him, but Tom refused. He was afraid of ruining my career too." Chris' voice broke and a small sob escaped him. "I was too much of a coward to step forward and I let him go."

Frank sat back and stared at Joe. "I'll be damned!" he murmured. "She went from one gay man to another."

"Some women are born unlucky," Joe murmured back.

"Mr. Curry, do you know where Tom is now?"

Chris nodded slowly. "Yes. I lost track of him for a few years, but he turned up recently and asked to borrow some money. Of course I lent it to him. I still… I still care about him." He fumbled for a pen and pulled a pad of paper closer. "He's working at the community kitchen on Main Street as a cook. They depend on volunteers there and don't ask a lot of questions. I don't know where he's living." Chris wrote something on the pad, tore the sheet off and folded it in quarters. "If you see him, will you give him this?"

Frank leaned forward and took the note. "Of course. Mr. Curry, we really appreciate this. I'll tell you honestly, we don't know for sure if Tom kidnapped his daughter, but if he's innocent, we'll make sure his name is cleared."

"Thank you." Chris twisted his hands together again. "I hope it's not necessary for you to tell anyone about this. My job…"

Frank shook his head and stood up. "Mr. Curry, this is just between us, but I think you should consider something. Is your job really more important to you than someone you care about?"

Chris blinked in surprise.

"He lost everything because he wanted to protect you. Think about it."

When they were back in the car, Joe twisted in his seat to look at Frank. "Why do you suppose he told us that? He didn't need to. He could have just told us where Winters was and let it go."

"Because I think he wants to get back together with him," Frank replied thoughtfully. "He's obviously still in love with him." Frank returned Joe's gaze. "I can't imagine living without you. Maybe subconsciously, he's ready for that little push that will give him the courage to admit what he wants." Frank held up Chris' note. "Maybe this is the first step."

"You gonna read it?"

"Nope. Let's go to the community kitchen."

The community kitchen on Main Street in downtown River Heights fed the poor and homeless. Run by a group of volunteers in a space donated by a local church, the kitchen provided three hot meals a day to anyone who showed up, no questions asked. They also kept a closet of donated coats, shoes and knitted caps for those who were truly in need. The church provided counseling services for anyone who wanted it, but the patrons were generally left alone to eat in peace and leave when they were done.

Frank and Joe left their jackets and ties in the car so they wouldn't look as much like cops or probation officers. One of the volunteers approached them as soon as they walked in.

"You don't look hungry," he said matter-of-factly. "What can I do for you?"

"We're looking for Thomas Winters. We understand he works here."

"Yeah, Tom works here, but we don't want any trouble. This place is a safe haven."

"We're not here to cause trouble. We just need to ask Tom a few questions and then we'll be on our way."

"Ok. Tom's in the back." The man hooked a thumb over his shoulder. "Be quick, though. Dinner rush starts early around here."

"Sure thing."

Frank and Joe walked into the back through a set of swinging double doors. Half a dozen volunteers were busy peeling potatoes and cutting up carrots.

"We're looking for Thomas Winters," Frank said.

A thin, clean-shaven man with light brown hair just turning gray stepped away from the table where he was cutting meat into cubes. He was a little bit shorter than Joe with small, graceful hands and large green eyes. "I'm Tom Winters," he said. "What do you want?"

"May we speak to you privately for a few minutes?"

Tom put down the knife he was using and wiped his hands on his apron. "We can talk in the storeroom." He led the way further into the back of the kitchen and through another door. The walls of the storeroom were lined with shelves stacked with canned goods. He turned to face them. "So what do you want?"

"Mr. Winters, did you know your daughter is missing?"

Tom's face lost all color and he took a halting step backward. "What?" he exclaimed in a faint voice.

"Your daughter Jolene disappeared about two weeks ago. Your ex-wife told the police you abducted her."

"I… I…" Tom put a shaking hand over his mouth. "I haven't seen Jolene since spring. I wanted to take her to Europe. I even borrowed some money to pay for the trip, but Estelle… she wouldn't… she hates me so much she'll do anything to keep me from seeing Jolene." Tom staggered to the wall and gripped a shelf with one shaking hand. The other was still pressed against his mouth. Suddenly, he began to sob, his whole body shaking as he wept. "I can't do this anymore! I can't! My baby…"

Joe immediately stepped forward and put a comforting hand on Tom's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Mr. Winters. The police have been trying to find you, but you have no fixed address, no phone number. No one knew where you were."

Tom continued to weep. "How did you find me?"

Frank held out the note. "Chris Curry told us."

Tom blinked at him. His grief made his eyes look sunken. His hand trembled as he reached out to take the note. He unfolded it slowly and read the paper while the tears still trailed down his cheeks. Then he began to sob again and clutched the paper to his chest. "Chris!" he whispered.

"Mr. Winters," Frank said gently. "I see that we're the first people to tell you about your daughter. A friend of ours was searching for her and now she's missing too. So I have to ask: has anyone else talked to you recently about Jolene?"

Tom shook his head. "No! No one talked to me. Why is this happening? I tried to protect her. And Chris. And it's all falling apart!" He leaned against the shelves, his shoulders shaking.

Frank looked at Joe, whose hand still rested on Tom's shoulder. Joe squeezed Tom's shoulder gently. "Why don't you go see Chris? He can take you to the police so you can clear your name. We'll find your daughter. I promise."

Tom wiped his eyes and made a visible effort to control his sobs. "I can't see Chris," he whispered hoarsely. "He'll lose his job if people find out about us."

"Why don't you let him decide?" Frank suggested. "He still cares about you. Maybe you're more important to him than his job."

"It's been so hard," Tom said faintly. "Not having anyone to turn to. I nearly went to Chris so many times, but I didn't want to… to ruin his life too." Tom looked at the piece of paper crumpled in his hand. "But now… he wants me to come stay with him until Jolene is found."

"So go."

Tom looked from one to the other of them, his face wounded and vulnerable. "Do you think she's still alive?"

Frank sighed. "I don't know, Mr. Winters, but I hope so, for the sake of our missing friend."

Tom looked down at the note again and nodded. "I'll go," he whispered. "I'll go see Chris and I'll go to the police."

"Good luck, Mr. Winters. We'll be in touch."

Once they were outside, Joe leaned against the side of the car with a long sigh. "Man, that's sad. I sure hope he gets back together with Chris. A guy shouldn't have to give up everything like that just because he's gay." He studied Frank thoughtfully. "If the truth ever comes out about us, I'm not going to lie about it."

Frank nodded. "Neither will I. But what now? Jolene was not abducted by her father, so what's our next step?"

"August Quito," Joe growled. "I want to know what he and Walter Surrey are up to."

"Ok. Let's go home and jump on the computer. But I think we're going to have to do some more legwork."

-o-o-o-

Frank slumped back and rubbed his eyes. His back ached and he was tired. Joe came up behind him and began rubbing his shoulders.

"Find anything?" Joe asked. He smelled of shampoo and soap.

"You took a shower."

"Yup."

"I should take one too." Frank arched his back with a groan. "Hot water would feel pretty good right now. My back is killing me."

"I'll massage it for you. Let's go in the bedroom." Joe pulled Frank to his feet and led him to the bed. "Take your shirt off and stretch out." Frank dropped his shirt on the floor and flopped down on the bed on his stomach. Joe straddled his thighs and pressed the heels of his hands into the small of Frank's back and pushed slowly upward.

Frank let out a deep moan. "Oh! That feels wonderful!"

"So, did you find out anything?"

"No, but I'm really sure I'm missing something. I tried searching the property records in River Heights, but there's no record of anything belonging to August Quito other than his house and the hardware store. Walter Surrey doesn't even own a house in River Heights. I think I want to start following Quito."

"We'll have to be careful. He's seen us."

"I know."

Joe continued to work his hands up and down Frank's back, loosening the tight muscles. "You're not falling asleep on me, are you?"

"Hmm? Not me." Frank yawned. "But this massage is really relaxing."

"Maybe for you. I'm getting turned on."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah." Joe leaned over and kissed the middle of Frank's back. "I like touching you. It gets me hot."

"Keep kissing me like that and I may get warmed up too."

"Ok!" Joe slid off Frank's legs onto one hip and leaned over. He kissed the small of Frank's back. "How's that?"

"Very nice."

Joe kissed a little higher. "What about that?"

"Keep going."

Joe kissed his way up Frank's spine to the back of his neck. "Now what?"

"Well…" Frank said. "You've worked all the kinks out of my back, but now you've gone and made another muscle stiff." He rolled onto his side. "What are you going to do about this?"

Joe grinned. "I guess I'll just have to massage that too. I'll use my tongue." He leaned over.

Frank groaned. "Ah! That's not exactly relaxing, you know." He inched over onto his back. "I think it needs a deeper massage."

Joe sat up. "If you insist." He yanked off his pants and underwear and straddled Frank's hips. He gasped softly as he settled onto Frank's erection and began to move up and down. "How's this? It will be my pleasure to massage as deeply as possible until your stiffness goes away."

Frank bent his knees a little and thrust his hips up and down in pleasurable counterpoint to Joe's motion. "I'll help. A long, deep massage is just what I need right now."

They moved together, slowly at first and then faster and faster until climax flooded them with ecstasy.

"Yes!" Joe gasped. "Yes! Man, that's good. You make me come so hard every time."

"I could say the same thing," Frank replied with a moan. "You are really good."

Joe lay down on Frank's chest. "Now I need another shower. We can take one together."

"We still haven't installed that new shower head."

"Oh well. So should we start tailing August Quito tomorrow?"

"Not right away. I want to find a decent picture of Walter Surrey. If we spot Surrey while we're following Quito, we can follow him too."

"Do you think Surrey and Quito meet regularly?"

"Probably not, but let's be prepared, just in case."

"Works for me."

Frank patted Joe's bottom. "Let's go get in the shower. I want to get an early start tomorrow."

"Right."


	5. Legwork

**Warning**: This story includes as an on-going sub-plot an incestuous homosexual relationship between Frank and Joe Hardy. This chapter contains suggestive language.

-o-o-o-

Chapter 5: **Legwork**

Joe chuckled to himself as the two well-dressed young businessmen studiously avoided making eye contact with what they took to be an old bagwoman muttering to herself as she shuffled along the middle of the sidewalk. As they separated to go around him, Joe scratched his butt for emphasis. The rumpled shapeless dress he was wearing hid his form quite well. His fluffy gray wig had hair straying in all directions. Coupled with makeup and the tattered scarf he had wound around the lower part of his face, his features were nearly indiscernible. He shuffled along slowly and came to a wheezing stop a few paces from the front entrance of the law offices of McCandry and Shears, one of Carson Drew's competitors in River Heights.

After hours on the computer, Frank had finally found a fairly good picture of Walter Surrey in a news article about his most recent indictment for securities fraud. The picture had been snapped in front of the offices of McCandry and Shears. The lawyers had apparently been handling Surrey's business affairs at the time, although they had not been included in the indictment. Surrey had gotten off in that case by paying a steep fine. Frank had not been able to find any information to indicate if Surrey still had a relationship with the lawyers, so they had decided to do a little surveillance.

So while Frank waited in his car in the parking lot outside River Heights Hardware for August Quito to leave work, Joe dressed up like a bag lady and parked himself in front of the lawyers offices. He settled down with his back against the wall, right next to the wide glass doors of the law office, and began panhandling in a raspy voice. It was lunch time and a lot of people passed by. Most ignored him; a few dropped coins into the stained and shredded mitten on his outstretched hand. He didn't have to wait long. An impeccably dressed young woman came out of the office and regarded him with thinly veiled annoyance.

"Excuse me, but you can't sit there."

Joe ignored her and kept begging.

"Excuse me!" the young woman repeated in a louder voice. "You can't solicit here. You need to move on."

Joe tipped his head to the side and peeked at her from under the tangled veil of his wig. "Show a little charity, my dear," he rasped. "I used to be young and pretty like you. I'm tired. I'll move on after I rest for a minute."

The young woman frowned. "This is a professional law office. We can't have someone like you sitting here disturbing our clients. If you don't leave, I'll have to call the police."

"Oh dear!" Joe wheezed. "Everyone is so heartless these days! No one has any kindness left for a poor old woman!"

Two teenagers passing by stopped and glared at the young woman. "Hey! Show the old lady a little pity. She's not hurting anything." The two dug through their pockets and produced a couple of dollar bills. "Here you go, lady." They handed Joe the money and glared at the young woman again before moving on.

The young woman leaned over and hissed at Joe angrily. "You need to get out of here. I'm going back inside. If you don't leave, I'm calling the police." She marched back inside, letting the door bang shut behind her.

Joe waited and five minutes later a young man with a friendly smile stuck his head out of the office door.

"You're still here, I see." The young man came all the way out and squatted down next to Joe. "I'm really sorry about this but Marsha has a bee up her butt about you sitting out here. Can I take you somewhere?"

"You're very kind," Joe said in a papery voice. "I wouldn't mind a cup of coffee with a nice young man like you."

The young man chuckled. "Ok. There's a cart vendor right over there who sells great coffee. I'll get us a couple of coffees and we can sit on the bench over there. If you're not right by the door, Marsha will cool off."

Joe held out his hand. "Will you help me? It's hard for an old lady to get up."

"Sure." The young man clasped Joe's hand and steadied him as he climbed stiffly to his feet. "My name is Joe. What's yours?"

Joe had to stifle a laugh. "Joe is a nice name. My name is Mary."

"Nice to meet you, Mary."

Joe leaned on his new acquaintance and let the young man help him to the bench by the curb, where he waited while the young man went to get the coffee. When he returned, Joe cradled the steaming cup in both hands as he lifted it to his lips.

"Oh, this is quite tasty, young man. You're much kinder than that young woman."

"Thanks."

"Are you a lawyer, Joe?"

"No, I'm just an intern. I'm still in college. I'm studying to be a lawyer though."

"Well, I hope you won't be one of those bad lawyers who steal money from people. That's what happened to me. A lawyer stole all the money my husband left me and I was turned out into the street."

"That's terrible!"

Joe nodded as he sipped his coffee. "These lawyers you work for; I hope they're not thieves."

"I don't think so. I mean, they have a few clients who…" the intern stopped himself. "I probably shouldn't say that. Anyway, I think they're pretty honest for the most part."

"I see."

"Well, I should probably get back to work. Are you going to be ok? Can I get you anything else?"

"You've been very kind. What was your name again?"

"Joe. Joe Agassi."

"Thank you for your kindness, Joe Agassi. I don't want you to get in trouble, so I'll be going now." Joe patted the young man on the arm and tottered off down the street. He glanced back when he turned the corner and saw that the intern had already gone back inside. Joe picked up the pace a little bit and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. The plan was for him to meet Frank at Nick's Coffee Shop when they had finished their surveillance, but he had finished more quickly than he expected. He punched Frank's number on his speed dial.

"_Hey Joe._"

"Hey Frank. I'm on my way to Nick's right now. I learned something interesting."

"_Oh really?_"

"Yeah, McCandry and Shears may not be entirely on the up and up. I talked to an intern who almost let slip that they have some shady clients."

"_No kidding? Did you get any names?_"

"Just the intern's. He said he's going to college so we should find out where. Maybe we can find an excuse to talk to him."

"_Ok. I'm about to give up on Quito. He hasn't come out and I've been here awhile. People are starting to notice me._"

"Why don't you come pick me up and we can head home. I think we should do a little more digging on these lawyers."

"_All right. I'll be there in about fifteen minutes._"

"See you then."

-o-o-o-

"Hey Joe!" Frank called from the living room. "Do you think Joe Agassi knows he was part owner of one of Walter Surrey's businesses last year?"

"What?" Joe came out of the bathroom, toweling his face dry after washing off the makeup he'd used to age his skin.

"Look here." Frank pointed at the screen. "The list of owners for this warehouse business includes Joe Agassi."

"But he's just an intern. Where would he get the money to invest in something like that?"

"I don't think he did," Frank said. "I can't even find most of the other people listed as owners. I've tried every search engine. I think Walter Surrey and August Quito are the sole owners of the business and the other people are listed to make the company look more legitimate."

"But they would have to declare it on their taxes, wouldn't they?"

Frank sat back, nodding slowly. "Maybe all these people are elderly clients of McCandry and Shears. As the manager of their clients' investments, they might do their taxes for them. These people probably have no idea they are being used as fronts."

"But Joe Agassi works there. Why would they use him?"

"One of these fake owners died unexpectedly last year. I found an obituary for him. It looks like Joe Agassi inherited his share in the company. But the company barely breaks even every year, so there's no income to declare."

"Where are these warehouses?"

"Let me look." Frank typed for a few minutes. "Here we go. There's one in New York, one in Washington DC, one in San Francisco, two in Los Angeles, and… one in River Heights." Frank sat back and turned to look at Joe. "Doesn't a River Heights location strike you as being in odd company next to those other cities?"

"It sure does." Joe stared at the computer screen for a moment and then his eyes grew wide. "Wait a minute! If I was smuggling something into the U.S., getting it into River Heights and then moving it across country from there might seem like a real good idea. The authorities keep a much tighter hold on big ports like the ones in those cities, so if they came in somewhere else…" He paused and looked at Frank.

Frank finished the thought for him. "Like through a small coastal community like Bayport, they might just get away with it for years if they were careful." Frank stood up and began to pace. "Let's think about this. Walter Surrey and August Quito are running a smuggling business and making a ton of money. But they don't want the front business for the smuggling operation to be too profitable and draw attention, so they funnel the money into other businesses, which they allow to fail. On paper, they invest a lot more in these businesses than they really put in, skim the rest of the money and then take a huge tax write-off. Then McCandry and Shears stick the skimmed money in off-shore accounts." Frank stopped in his tracks and snapped his fingers. "In fact, I bet they're using the names and accounts of their other clients as investors as a way to transfer the money. The clients unknowingly invest in the smuggling business and earn a profit. The profit is invested in the businesses that fail and the clients get the tax write-off. To them, it would look like they earned a small return, which is really a tax refund. But Surrey, Quito and the lawyers end up with a bunch of money."

Joe snorted. "So we were right the first time. These guys are just crooks and they're laundering money."

"It sure looks that way."

"But what the hell are they smuggling?" Joe scratched his head. "It must be bulky if they need warehouses to pass it though."

"Not necessarily." Frank returned to the computer. "Let's get a map to the warehouse in River Heights. I want to check the place out."

"Good idea. And maybe we should check to see if Quito or Surrey keeps a boat in the Bayport Marina."

"Also a good idea."

Joe chuckled. "You know, all this thinking has me worked up. Feel like fooling around before dinner?"

"You bet." Frank sent the map to the printer and turned around. "I still don't know if this is going to lead us to Nancy or Jolene, but I sure wouldn't mind breaking up a smuggling ring in the process."

Joe nodded. "Me too." He grabbed Frank's hands and pulled him to his feet. "Let's fuck and then I'll make dinner."

"Ok. We can go look at the warehouse after that, when it's dark."

-o-o-o-o-o-

"It sure doesn't look like much," Joe muttered.

The warehouse occupied its own block and was nearly indistinguishable from the other warehouses in the area. There were no windows on the ground floor and only two entrances: a wide roll-up door on the shipping and receiving dock and a smaller man-size door at the top of a small flight of stairs adjacent to the dock. Both were locked. There were also two fire escapes, but the ladders were folded up and well out of reach. The rows of windows high up in the walls were blacked out.

"Yeah, it looks pretty ordinary," Frank agreed. "They could be keeping just about anything in there."

"Should we try to break in?"

"No. Not yet anyway. I don't want to arouse their suspicions. If they did have something to do with Nancy or Jolene's disappearance, I don't want to spook them into going to ground." Frank looked around with a frown. "I'd like to watch the place, but it doesn't look like there are any good surveillance points around here."

Joe grinned. "Why don't we set up an illegal webcam?" He pointed at the neighboring building. "There's a good spot on the ledge above the window over there. I can reach it if I stand on your shoulders. I saw a sign on the coffee shop we passed just down the street that said it's a free wireless hot spot. We can hide a relay for the camera there."

"I never knew you had this dishonest streak, little brother."

"All in a good cause," Joe chuckled.

"All right, I think that's a good plan. We can get what we need at the electronics store tomorrow and set things up tomorrow night. Maybe we should get two. If it turns out that one of those guys owns a boat, we might want to set up a camera at the Marina, too."

Joe nodded. "I can get the stuff while you find out about the boat."

They headed back to Frank's car, parked a block away.

"I wonder how much of this Nancy figured out," Joe said as they strolled along casually with their hands in their pockets.

Frank shrugged. "If Quito made her suspicious the way he did us, it wouldn't surprise me if she got this far. Nancy's smart."

"That's what has me worried," Joe replied softly. "If she came to the warehouse and Quito or Surrey caught her here…"

"Yeah," Frank nodded slowly in agreement. "The more we find out, the more worried I get too. Maybe we shouldn't say anything to Mr. Drew or Ned from now on, until we know more."

Joe nodded. "I think that might be best."

-o-o-o-o-o-

"You were right," Frank announced when Joe returned from the electronics store the next morning. "I found a website for the Bayport Yacht Owners Association. They list Walter Surrey as a member in good standing since 1986. He owns a 40 foot luxury yacht called 'Pretty Boy'. And guess what else?"

"What?"

"The entire Marina is a wireless hot spot."

"No kidding?"

"Yup. The Association paid to have it installed two years ago so the owners could sit on their sun decks and surf the web."

Joe grinned. "Perfect! We can set our camera and relay up together. Here, install this." He fished a box of software out of his bag. "It's the control software for the cameras."

"Did the clerk say anything when you bought this stuff?"

"Just that this particular camera is popular with amateur pornographers," Joe replied with a grin. "Apparently, they like the gritty, peeping-tom look it gives to their videos."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. I almost bought another one."

"Naughty boy." Frank took the software and returned to the computer. "By the way, Dad called. He's inviting himself over for dinner tonight. He said he misses your cooking."

"I bet he does!" Joe sat down on the couch and began unpacking the new cameras. "He's probably been living on junk food since we moved out. I'll have to go shopping later and get something good to make. We should ask him about hiring us to work for him while he's here, though. My bank account's getting low."

"I was thinking the same thing. He said he doesn't mind helping us with the rent, but I'd feel better if we were earning it, especially during the summer like this. But we could still work part-time during school."

"I agree."

Frank turned around. "Ok. Software's installed."

"Just a second." Joe finished unpacking the second relay. "We're supposed to be able to configure both cameras at the same time. Once that's done, we just have to mount the cameras and the relays and turn them on. We need to leave the computer on with the software running. It will record the output from the cameras into disk files." Frank moved aside so Joe could plug each relay and camera pair into a USB port. "We should install the cameras at the Marina this afternoon. I think it will be less conspicuous than wandering around there at night." He sat down at the computer and started typing.

"Probably so," Frank agreed. "But we'll have to do the warehouse at night. We can go up there after Dad leaves."

"Why don't you go mess up my bedroom a little bit and make it look lived in while I do this? We don't want Dad to figure out we're sleeping in the same room."

"Right!" Frank ruffled Joe's hair and went into the spare bedroom. "Man, it's dusty in here! I'll clean up first and then make a mess."

"That sounds wrong!" Joe laughed.

Frank laughed too. "I know, but Dad knows how fastidious you are about dust." He came back into the living room and looked around with his hands on his hips. "I may as well vacuum, too. This room needs it as well, anyway."

"Can you throw that trash out for me?"

"Sure." Frank gathered up the packaging from the cameras and shoved it back into the bag. "I'll take this out to the bin. How long is the configuration going to take?"

"Probably another half-hour. It's downloading software into the relays right now."

"Tell you what; after you're done there, let's clean the apartment, have lunch and then go down to the Marina."

"Sounds like a plan."

-o-o-o-o-

"This is a really nice place, guys. I'm impressed."

"Thanks, Dad." Frank had just finished giving their father a tour of the apartment. "We're pretty comfortable here and it's walking distance to a lot of places. I can save a little money by not using my car as much."

"Good thinking."

"And it's real close to campus," Joe added from the kitchen, where he was cutting a sourdough loaf into neat slices. "I should be able to make it to class on time even when I oversleep."

"I hope you're kidding," Fenton Hardy said with a nervous laugh.

"Yeah, I'm kidding," Joe chuckled. "Frank will make sure I get up on time. He takes good care of me."

"What are you making?" Fenton asked. "It smells great."

"Forty clove of garlic chicken. It's from my French cookbook. It's pretty easy but it tastes great."

"When will it be ready? I'm starved."

"It's ready now." Joe put the bread in a basket and brought it to the table. "Go ahead and sit down."

Frank and Fenton took seats at the table and Joe brought in the serving dish. "I made a little extra so you can take the leftovers home with you, Dad. I do worry about how you're eating. Have you had your cholesterol checked lately?"

"Don't fuss, Joe!" Fenton admonished him. "I get regular checkups."

"Good. With you all alone in the house now…"

Fenton coughed abruptly and his cheeks reddened. "Well, about that…" Joe and Frank stared at him expectantly. "You see I, ah… I recently let a friend of mine move in. She suffered a financial setback and lost her condo so I…" His flush deepened.

"Dad," Frank said. "Give us the straight scoop."

"Well… um… she…"

"Geez, it's like pulling teeth!" Joe exclaimed. "When did you meet her? And where?"

"She's from my AA group. I met her about six months ago. We get along great, so when she got into trouble…"

"You bailed her out."

"It's just temporary. As soon as she's back on her feet, she'll get a place of her own."

"Right." Joe and Frank exchanged a look.

"Dad," Frank said firmly, "you're forty-eight years old. If you want to shack up with someone, you don't need to make excuses. We think it's great. We're glad you're not alone. We really have been worried about you."

Fenton smiled gratefully. "Thanks, guys. I was kind of worried about what you would think."

"So it looks like we moved out just in time," Joe said. "Let's eat. Now we have two things to celebrate: our new place and Dad's new roommate."

"This calls for a toast," Frank added. He winked at Fenton. "I'll break out the sparkling cider."

"You boys are great kids. I don't know where I'd be right now without all the support you've given me."

"You're our dad," Joe said warmly. "We Hardys have to look out for each other."


	6. Smugglers

**Warning**: This story includes as an on-going sub-plot an incestuous homosexual relationship between Frank and Joe Hardy. This chapter contains strong sexual content and suggestive language.

-o-o-o-

Chapter 6: **Smugglers**

"I can't believe Dad's shacked up with some chick," Joe said. "I thought he was still carrying a torch for Mom."

"Apparently, he got over her." Frank pulled Joe's t-shirt off over his head. "It has been a few years since the divorce and the AA meetings have really helped his self-esteem."

"True." Joe put his arms around Frank's neck. "Do you want to do it in the shower or in bed? I feel kind of grubby after climbing around on that window ledge installing that camera. I think every pigeon in River Heights pooped on that ledge."

Frank laughed. "Both." He put his arms around Joe's waist and kissed him. "Committing criminal acts always gets me horny."

"Man, if I'd known that, I would have taken you out shoplifting a long time ago."

"You're getting very naughty, young man."

"Oh yeah?" Joe licked Frank's neck and nibbled his earlobe. "Let's get in the shower and I'll show you how naughty I can be."

Frank groaned. "You clearly need a hard spanking."

Joe slipped a hand down and rubbed the front of Frank's trousers. "It feels like you have just the tool to do it."

"If you keep rubbing that, we are not going to make it to the shower."

Joe pushed Frank away with a laugh and dashed out of the bedroom. "Last one naked and wet is a rotten egg!"

"Wretch!" Frank raced after him.

Once they were in the shower, Frank lifted Joe up against the wall. "This is why I like you skinny," he said. Joe wrapped his arms and legs around Frank and Frank shoved himself in with a firm thrust.

"Ah!" Joe gasped. "That feels fantastic!"

Frank just groaned in response and pounded himself into Joe eagerly.

Later on in bed, Joe looked at his fingers and made a pouty face. "I think we should have saved that last one in the shower for bed. My fingers are all pruned up."

"I told you not to bend over to pick up the soap," Frank replied. "I was already hard and you presented me with a perfect view of your delightful bottom. What was I supposed to do?"

"Ram it up my ass until I'm spraying like the showerhead?"

"Damn right."

Joe laughed softly and snuggled up against Frank's side. "So are you tired now?"

"I just need to rest for a minute." Frank rubbed a hand thoughtfully up and down Joe's arm. "We should check the Marina camera in the morning and see if the 'Pretty Boy' is back. That guy at the gas station said the boat usually fills up right before a long trip and then is gone for three or four days, and you said that fisherman told you the boat left three days ago."

Joe nodded. "He said they always leave at night and come back at night. That is so damn suspicious."

"No kidding." Frank rolled over on top of Joe and pushed his legs apart. "We may as well check the warehouse camera, too. I don't really expect anything, but it can't hurt to look."

Joe moaned as Frank penetrated him. He lifted his hips. "Take your time, ok? We haven't held each other like this for a while."

"I know. I guess we just got used to rushing when we always had to worry about Dad walking in on us."

Joe giggled. "Do you suppose he's doing the same thing right now, now that he's got a girlfriend?"

"I'm not sure I want the image of Dad getting laid in my head."

"It is kind of scary." Joe closed his eyes. "I think I'll just concentrate on how good you feel right now."

"I can relate to that."

-o-o-o-

Frank leaned over Joe's shoulder and looked at the image in the Marina camera's playback window. "I'm still amazed how clear that picture is. Why don't you fast forward?"

Joe clicked the fast forward button and the image sped up. People scampered in and out of the picture, going to other slips, and two boats pulled in and tied up. Neither was the 'Pretty Boy'. As the image dimmed into night, Joe boasted the image contrast. "Not bad, huh? The cameras adjust automatically to changes in the light."

"Pretty cool. Hey, is that it?"

Joe quickly clicked the play button. "Yeah, I think so." They watched as a large yacht pulled up to the dock and two men leaped off to tie it up. "I can't see the name, but it's in the 'Pretty Boy's berth and it's the right size."

Another man came out on deck and leaned over the side, apparently issuing orders to the other two. Frank leaned closer. "Can you enlarge that?"

"Just a sec." Joe manipulated the controls and the image zoomed in on the man's face. "It's Walter Surrey."

"I thought so."

Joe zoomed back just in time to see one of the two men on the dock jog away. "Where do you suppose he's going?"

"Dunno." Frank continued to stare at the screen as the other man climbed back onto the boat and disappeared inside with Walter Surrey. A moment later, both men reappeared, followed by a dozen or so teenage boys. "Who the hell are they?"

"You got me." Joe zoomed in on some of the boys faces. "They look really young. That kid can't be more than twelve."

"Yeah," Frank agreed. "That kid there might be fifteen or sixteen, but that's pushing it." He straightened up with a frown. "They could be mules. Smugglers will sometimes hide drugs inside people's bodies, usually in the vaginal or rectal cavity where it can be retrieved fairly easily but won't be found in a pat-down."

Joe nodded. "That makes sense. If the Coast Guard stopped them, they could say it was a charity outing for inner city kids or something like that. Then they use the kids to move the drugs or whatever to the different cities for distribution." The men and boys moved out of the camera's field of view and Joe stopped the playback.

"What time is it?" Frank tapped the screen. "We should check the warehouse camera starting about half an hour after then and see if they show up there."

Joe pointed at the small timestamp in the lower right hand corner of the image. "It's about 12:30am." He opened up another playback window and brought up the previous night's file for the other camera. "There's a function that will let me start the playback at 12:30. One second." He opened another small dialog and typed in the time. "Here we go. I'll fast forward until we see something."

The second image began to play, showing the empty alley, the shipping dock and the warehouse door. Then a van turned into the alley and stopped in front of the door. Joe clicked the play button. They got a good view of Walter Surrey's face as he exited the passenger door of the van. The driver remained hidden as he walked down the far side of the van to the back. The steps leading up to the warehouse door were hidden by the van, but Frank and Joe could see the doorway over the top of it. They watched as Walter Surrey unlocked the door and led the way inside. Joe resumed the fast forward, but nothing changed. The van remained parked outside and no one came back out. The playback stopped when it reached the current time and Joe sat back.

"Well," Joe said. "What do you think?"

"I think now it's time to go search that warehouse."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. We don't have anything to take to the cops right now. We need proof. We have to get into that warehouse and find out what they're smuggling. Samples would be good, because they'll act on that." He smiled grimly at Joe. "We can hardly turn over the results of our illegal surveillance, but we can say we were looking for Nancy and stumbled across the stuff."

Joe nodded. "Right. We'll need tools if we're going to do a little B&E."

Frank put a hand over his face. "Don't tell me you know where to buy burglar tools for breaking and entering?"

Joe grinned. "Don't need to buy anything. I already have it." He laughed at Frank's slightly shocked look. "A fellow has to have hobbies and I got bored that summer you were working for Dad."

"I think we need to sit down and have a very long talk."

"Sure, as long as I get to sit in your lap."

"Joe…"

Joe laughed as he turned his attention back to the computer. "We better keep an eye on this. If we're going back there tonight, we'll need to know who's inside."

"You're changing the subject."

"Yup."

Around midday, a car came and picked up Walter Surrey, but there was no other visible activity after that.

"Breaking in unnoticed is going to be tough with all those people in there," Frank muttered.

"But I think the door might still be unlocked," Joe said. "Surrey didn't lock it when he came out."

"Someone could have locked it from the inside."

"I didn't see anyone when he came out." Joe ran the video back to where Surrey emerged from the building. "See? He just let it swing shut."

"Maybe…" Frank was not completely convinced. "That would be the easiest way in, though." He folded his arms across his chest with a sigh. "Well, we may as well get ready and head up there. If those boys are carrying drugs or something, they'll have to take it out for a little while at least. Maybe we'll get lucky."

"Right."

-o-o-o-o-o-

Frank and Joe crouched in the shadow of the neighboring warehouse, studying the alley next to their target.

"The van's still there," Joe noted.

"Which means everyone is probably still inside," Frank said. He nodded toward the dock. "Why don't you hide over there while I try the door? I'll signal if I need you to open it. Once I'm inside, you stay out of sight. If anything happens, call the police."

Joe clasped Frank's arm briefly. "Don't let anything happen."

"I'll do my best."

Joe slipped past the van and hopped up onto the shipping dock while Frank crept quietly up the steps to the door. He stood there for several seconds, listening carefully, and then tried the handle slowly. It turned and the door opened with a faint click. Joe, peeking around the edge of the wall, gave him a thumbs-up and moved out of sight. Frank pushed the door open just far enough to take a quick look. It was dark and quiet inside, so he quickly slipped in and shut the door. He waited there for some sign that he had been observed, but it remained quiet. Carefully, he moved out into the warehouse.

Heavy crates stacked in neat rows divided the warehouse floor into aisles, making it impossible to see more than a dozen or so paces in any direction. Frank edged carefully along a wall of crates, pausing frequently to listen. At each intersection, he dropped down to sweep his fingers across the floor and feel for dust. Since several people had walked through here not too long ago, the dust would be disturbed along the path they took. His path took him to the middle of the warehouse, where a stairway led up to another floor. Faint light filtered down from above.

Frank ghosted up the stairs as silently as he could. Near the top, he paused. The stairwell opened into a large room. A couple of tables and several chairs were set about seemingly at random. Directly ahead of him, a door stood open into another room and it was from there that the light issued. Frank moved up a little higher so he could see the tops of the tables, but just as he did so, a man stepped into view in the open doorway. His eyes fell on Frank and a look of stark surprise crossed his face; then he lowered his brows threateningly.

"Don't even try to run, buddy," he snarled. A gun appeared in his hand, pointed at Frank. Frank went still. The man came forward slowly. "Show me your hands." Frank raised his hands. Another man appeared behind the first. "I told you Surrey always forgets to lock the door," the first man growled back over his shoulder. "You should have checked it when I told you to."

The second man rubbed his eyes and stared at Frank. "What're you gonna do with him?"

"Stick him with the others and call Quito. This is getting out of hand." The man walked toward Frank. "Get up here and turn around. Burt, get over here and search him."

Frank moved to the top of the steps and turned around. There was no way he could make it down the stairs before being shot. He stood still while he was patted down and relieved of his wallet and cell phone. Then a thick hand grabbed him firmly by the back of the neck.

"Come on, you. Don't try anything funny." The muzzle of the gun was jammed sharply into his back. "Let's go." Guided by sharp jerks on his neck, Frank was quick-marched past the stairs to another door. The man called Burt unlocked it and Frank was shoved unceremoniously into the darkness inside. Frank jumped for the door as it was slammed shut behind him, but he was too late. The door was already locked.

-o-o-o-

Joe risked a quick look around the corner of the dock when he heard the side door bang open. A man stepped out onto the landing already involved in a conversation on his cell phone.

"Is that better? I'm outside now. Nah, nobody's around. Look, you better get over here. Surrey left the door open again and we caught some guy wandering around the warehouse."

Joe's heart began to race and he edged farther forward.

"Uh huh. We stuck him in with the others. But look, this is no good. We gotta move the boys. You coming over or what?" The man listened for several seconds, nodding repeatedly. "Yeah, ok. That's good."

The sudden clang of the dock's roll-up door unlatching made Joe jump. Trapped between whoever was opening the door and the other man, Joe momentarily froze. Then he leaped off the dock and ran for it.

"Hey you!" The shout echoed sharply in the alley over the squeal of the roll-up door. "Cam, there's another one!"

"Stop!" The warning shout and the pop of a handgun barely preceded the pinging ricochet off the wall beside him. Joe skidded to a halt with his hands in the air. He was too far from the end of the alley to get away. Slowly, he turned around and walked back toward the gunman.

The other man hopped down off the dock and grabbed Joe roughly by the arm. "Good thing I checked the other door. I thought that guy might not be alone."

"Good thinking, Burt." The man addressed as Cam stepped close and looked Joe up and down. "This guy's practically still a kid!" he snorted. "Maybe Quito would like to play with him a little." He leered at Joe. "Let's tie him up and put him with the boys till Quito gets here."

"Sure thing." Burt dragged Joe into the warehouse through the dock entrance while Cam kept him covered with the gun. They waited while Cam closed and latched the roll-up door and then they continued through a maze of crates to a stairway near the center. On the upper floor, Cam produced a coil of nylon rope from a back room and Joe was swiftly and efficiently hog-tied. Then they dragged him by his elbows to another room and tossed him in.

"You be good, now," Cam said with a harsh laugh. "You don't want to get all bruised before Quito gets a look at you." He slammed the door with another harsh laugh.

Angrily, Joe kicked at his bonds and rolled over onto his side. A dozen or so boys seated on crates and the floor regarded him with expressions of wide-eyed curiosity.

Joe stared back. "Who are you? Where are you from?"

One of the boys leaned forward. "We are from Warsaw," he said in carefully pronounced English. His accent sounded Eastern European to Joe.

"What are you doing here?"

"We came for work," the boy said. "The men say we will get green cards when we turn eighteen."

Joe looked around at the boys. None of them looked older then fifteen and some looked as young as eleven. Suddenly, he remembered what Jolene's friend had said. _She's glad she doesn't have any brothers._ These boys weren't mules for smuggled cargo. They were the cargo. Joe swallowed, wondering if the boys knew. "Eighteen seems like awhile from now for some of you. What will you do until then?"

The boy who was speaking shrugged. "We will sleep with men." He lifted his chin proudly. "We are very young and handsome, so they will pay a lot."

Joe stared. "You know that and you still came?"

"Why not? That's what we did in Warsaw, but for less money. If we get green cards and jobs in America, we will be rich."

Joe shuddered. "They've been lying to you. They can't get you green cards. They'll use the promise to control you and if you try to run away, you'll be arrested as illegal aliens."

"But why would they lie?" another boy said. "There are always more boys; they don't need to keep us when we get too old."

"Because if anyone finds out about you, the men who brought you here will be arrested! What they're doing is against the law! Untie me!"

The boys looked at each other nervously.

"Come on!" Joe cried. "Untie me! Right now, you guys are victims and you're minors. The authorities won't deport you. You might even get what you were hoping for: a chance to stay in America and work. But these guys have been smuggling in boys like you for years. I bet you'll get treated like slaves or worse. We have to stop them. Come on!"

One of the boys shook his head and said something quickly in a foreign language. Several other boys nodded in agreement. The first boy shifted uncomfortably.

"They treat us good," a third boy spoke up. "We better off here. Maybe you lie."

"Argh!" Joe growled. He struggled uselessly against his bonds. "You have to listen to me! These men are not your friends! They're going to sell you!"

The door banged open. "All right, pretty boy!" Cam said. "Let's go!" He picked Joe up and tossed him over one shoulder. "Quito wants you tied to the bed for a little late night entertainment. I don't go for that kind of fun myself, but the boss pays good so who cares how he likes to get his rocks off?"

Burt trailed along behind Cam and lifted Joe's head by the hair. "Maybe the boss will give us a bonus for you," he added with a wicked laugh. "I hope you're nice and tight."

Joe struggled, but it was useless. Within minutes, he was bound hand and foot to a surprisingly comfortable bed in an otherwise empty room.

"Oh man, Frank!" he whispered. "We are in so much trouble!"


	7. Missing Child

_There's no warning on this chapter. You know what that means. Please don't throw things!_

-o-o-o-

Chapter 7: **Missing Child**

_About two weeks ago…_

Nancy stared up at the Quito mansion as she stepped out of her car. "This place is a little ostentatious for River Heights," she muttered. She glanced again at the address on her note to make sure she had the right house. "Yup, this is it." She stepped up onto the porch and rang the doorbell. Even the chime sounded full of itself. Nancy grimaced and shook her head. _What am I getting into?_

A maid in a traditional black uniform with a white apron answered the door. Nancy had to stifle a laugh.

"May I help you?"

"Yes, my name is Nancy Drew. I have an appointment with the Quitos."

"Of course, Miss Drew. Please come in." The maid held the door for her and Nancy entered the lavish front hall. "Please come through here." She led Nancy into a parlor on the left side. "I'll let them know you're here."

A couch and two easy chairs faced each other across a low coffee table, centered on an attractive rug. Nancy took a seat on the couch while she waited. The furniture looked expensive, but the couch had the stiff uncomfortable feel of overpriced but low quality construction. In fact, many of the articles in the room gave Nancy that impression. Vases that were obviously bought because they appeared antique just looked gaudy to her. The rug on the floor had the look of an expensive Persian, but a quick brush with her fingertips told Nancy it was made from a polyester blend.

"Upper-class wannabes," she murmured.

She had to wait several minutes before either of her hosts appeared. August Quito was the first to enter. He was a handsome, well-built man and he swept into the room with the air of someone busy and important.

"Miss Drew, sorry to keep you waiting. My wife will join us in just a moment. Can I offer you anything?"

"No thank you." Nancy took out her notebook and flipped it open. "Is there anything you can tell me about your stepdaughter's disappearance?"

"No, I'm afraid not." August brushed his fingers lightly through his hair and flopped into a chair with one leg dangling over the arm.

Nancy studied him surreptitiously as she made a show of retrieving her pen from her belt pouch. August seemed far too relaxed for someone with a missing child, even if the girl was only a stepchild.

"Can you tell me why you're hiring a private investigator instead of going to the police?"

"Because the police are useless!" Estelle Quito exclaimed. She posed for a moment in the doorway like a tragic heroine and then floated into the room to offer Nancy her hand. "Thank you so much for coming, Miss Drew. I've heard so many wonderful things about you and I know you'll be able to find Jolene."

"I hope I can, Mrs. Quito," Nancy replied. "I take it you already spoke to the police?"

"Of course we did!" Estelle sank into the other easy chair beside her husband. "As soon as we realized she was missing, we called. But they never took my report seriously. They labeled her a runaway and never even tried to find her!"

"Is there any reason why Jolene might run away? Trouble at school or with friends?"

"No, nothing!" Estelle leaned forward. "It's my ex-husband. He took her. I know he did!"

Nancy looked up in surprise. "I thought you said you had sole custody of Jolene, Mrs. Quito."

"I do!" Estelle sat back and smoothed her skirts nervously. "But Thomas had visitation rights, even though I told the judge…" she paused. "Well, I don't need to go into that. Anyway, he wanted to take Jolene to Europe. He said it was just for the summer, but I know better."

"So you denied her permission to go?"

"That's right."

"Did Jolene want to go?"

August laughed. "Of course she did! What girl her age would not want to go to Europe?" He slipped his leg off the chair arm and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. "She was a typical eleven-year-old."

"Jolene's not typical! She's very bright!" Estelle interrupted sharply. "And don't refer to her in the past tense!"

August held up his hands. "Sorry! Sorry! I just meant that she wanted things a normal eleven-year-old girl would want."

"When was the last time you saw your ex-husband, Mrs. Quito?"

"I haven't seen him for years; we've only spoken on the telephone."

"He didn't come here to pick Jolene up for her visits?" Nancy tried to hide her surprise. Her initial impression that the Winters' divorce was ugly was getting strongly reinforced.

"No, he would pick her up from school on Friday and drop her off here on Sunday. When he could be bothered to see her," Estelle added with a sniff. "He only got one weekend a month, but he was terrible about keeping a schedule."

"When did you last talk to him?"

"About a month ago when he called to ask about taking Jolene to Europe. But I know it was just a lie," Estelle hissed. "Thomas couldn't afford to go to Europe. I don't think he's had a job since the school fired him."

"I see." Nancy looked down at her notes as she wrote. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched August Quito drumming his fingers on his knee. He looked bored and restless. The interaction between Estelle and August puzzled her. August didn't seem to care at all about his stepdaughter. Nancy could understand that, but what made less sense was that August didn't seem to care much about his wife's feelings either and Estelle didn't appear to be bothered very much by that. All of her emotion seemed tied up in her hatred for her ex-husband.

"Is anything missing from Jolene's room?" Nancy asked. "Clothes, books, important mementos?"

Estelle frowned. "That's the odd thing. I couldn't find anything missing except for her school uniform and her shoes. But that's why I think Thomas abducted her. He would have snatched her from school and she wouldn't have had anything else with her."

"What about her school books?"

"Oh, those are missing too."

Nancy tapped the pen thoughtfully against her lips. "Who normally takes Jolene to school?"

"I do," August said. "The maid usually picks her up, but sometimes I will pick her up instead if the maid is out."

"And you dropped her off as usual the day she disappeared?"

"Yes. I usually drop her off on the corner to avoid the traffic."

"How far is that from the front of the school?"

"Not far. Maybe half a block."

Nancy fell silent as she digested this. Even half a block was far enough if someone had been waiting for her. "Did Jolene seem normal the night before? Was she unusually excited or withdrawn?"

"To be honest, I didn't really talk to her," Estelle said uncomfortably. "I was at the day spa all day and didn't see her until after dinner. She was in her room doing homework and we only said goodnight."

"Would the maid have spoken to her? If she picked Jolene up, perhaps she noticed something."

"I doubt it," Estelle huffed. "She probably snuck out for the day since she knew I wouldn't be here. But the police did talk to her."

"Do you mind if I ask her a few questions?"

"I suppose not."

August popped out of his chair. "I'll get her." Estelle frowned at his back as he left.

Nancy noticed the look. "How long has this maid been with you?"

"Several years." Estelle smoothed her expression as she turned back to Nancy. "August hired her right after we bought this house."

"Is she a good maid?"

"Oh yes, she's quite efficient." Estelle's eyes narrowed. "August isn't having an affair with her, if that's what you're thinking. She just gets a little uppity sometimes, that's all."

Nancy quickly looked down to cover her smile. She could imagine how offended Estelle would get if the maid didn't play into her act as the fine Southern lady. "I'd like to speak to her alone, if that's all right."

"If you insist."

August returned with the maid trailing along behind him, her hands clasped in front of her waist. Nancy stood up.

"This is Maria," August said.

"How do you do, Maria?" Nancy said. "Why don't we step across the hall for a minute?" She led the way out of the parlor to the far side of the entry hall. She stopped there and turned to face Maria so the young woman's head would block the Quitos' view of her face. "Maria, were you home the day before Jolene disappeared?" Nancy asked in a low voice.

Maria answered in an equally soft voice. "No, Miss Drew. Mr. Quito said I could take the day off since Mrs. Quito was going to the day spa."

"Was that unusual?"

"No. Mr. Quito often gives me the day off when Mrs. Quito is out."

"Do you always leave the house when that happens?"

Maria nodded. "I go to see my mother. She lives on the other side of River Heights."

Nancy paused for a moment. "Did Jolene and her mother get along?"

"Mostly," Maria said. "But Mrs. Quito is very involved in her own interests and didn't always make time for Jolene. Jolene didn't seem to mind though. She spent a lot of time in the kitchen with me."

"So you know her pretty well."

"I guess so."

"What about her father, Thomas Winters? Did Jolene get along with him?"

Maria smiled as she nodded. "Jolene was very fond of her father. I think she missed him quite a lot." She glanced quickly over her shoulder and lowered her voice. "To be honest, about the only time Mrs. Quito really paid attention to Jolene was right before her father's visitation weekends. Then she'd always come up with something for Jolene to do so she couldn't see him. I thought it was kind of mean."

"I see. Do you think Jolene ran away?"

Maria frowned for a moment and then shook her head. "Jolene loves school. She wouldn't run away from that. And besides, there was nothing really bad about her life here. She was a little neglected, but she had friends. I don't think she was unhappy."

"Did you tell the police that?"

"Yes."

Nancy thought for a minute. "Did you pick Jolene up from school the day before she disappeared? When Mrs. Quito was at the day spa?"

"No, she was already home when I got back from my mother's house. I think Mr. Quito picked her up, because he was home too."

"Did she seem all right to you?"

Maria shrugged and nodded. "We didn't really get a chance to talk. Since I was out, I had a lot of chores to catch up and then I had to start dinner. She seemed ok through."

"You said Mr. Quito was home too. Might anything have happened between the two of them? You know…"

Maria quickly shook her head. "No, nothing like that. Mr. Quito hardly pays any attention to Jolene at all. I think I would have noticed if something like that was going on."

Nancy nodded and quickly finished making notes. She flipped the notebook closed. "Thanks, Maria, you've been a big help. One other thing: do the Quitos ever fight?"

"Not really. They hardly even talk to each other. Sometimes I wonder why they got married." Maria paused. "Although they did have one big argument a couple of weeks ago. I don't know what it was about, but Mr. Quito went out afterward and stayed out all night."

Nancy re-opened her notebook to jot the additional information down. "I think that's all I need, thanks."

Maria bobbed her head. "You're welcome." She hurried off through a door at the back of the entry hall.

Nancy tucked her notebook and pen back into her belt pouch and returned to the door of the parlor. "That's all the questions I have right now, Mrs. Quito. I'll be speaking to the police to find out if they learned anything. Do you have a number or address for your ex-husband?"

"No, I don't," Estelle sniffed. "He always calls me."

"Ok, then I'll be going."

August followed Nancy to the door and opened it for her. "We really are quite concerned about Jolene, Miss Drew," August said unconvincingly. "But since we're pretty sure she's with her father, we know she's not in any danger."

"Hopefully, that's the case," Nancy replied. August watched from the open door as Nancy climbed into her car and drove away. "Those are very odd people," she muttered as she turned out into the street. "Maybe the maid is right and Jolene wouldn't run away, but a few days with even an unemployed father might look pretty appealing with parents like that."

-o-o-o-

Nancy entered the River Heights main police precinct station to a chorus of greetings.

"Hey Nancy! How's it going?"

"What's up, Nancy?"

"Solve any good cases lately?"

Nancy waved good-naturedly to the room in general. "Hello, everybody! Keeping the crime rate down?"

"You betcha!"

Nancy stopped and leaned on one officer's desk. "Hey Jimbo, who's handling missing children these days?"

"It's usually Ken Washimura, but if you're asking about the Winters-Quito case, the Chief's handling that one."

"Damn!" Nancy exclaimed softly. "Why'd he take it?"

"August Quito's an important local businessman," Jimbo replied with a grin, "of course the Chief took an interest."

"So what's the skinny?"

Jimbo shrugged. "The kid's a runaway, I hear. Bitter divorce; inattentive mother; you know the drill."

"Hmm…" Nancy glanced at the closed door of Chief Jones' office. "Think he'd talk to me for a minute?"

"Why? The Quitos hire you?"

"Yeah. They don't think Jolene ran away."

Jimbo stood up. "I'll go ask him, but don't be surprised if he blows you off."

Nancy chuckled wryly. "I'm used to that." She watched as Jimbo rapped on the door and stuck his head in. He spoke for a moment, then looked over his shoulder and beckoned to Nancy. When she stepped through the door, Chief Jones was seated behind his desk wearing his "being patient" expression. Nancy had to suppress the urge to grimace.

"So you're looking into the Winters girl's disappearance?" Chief Jones said.

Nancy was impressed that he managed to make "looking into" sound like "meddling in". "That's right, Chief. The Quitos are pretty adamant that Thomas Winters abducted his daughter."

Chief Jones waved a hand dismissively. "Not possible. Thomas Winters hasn't been in River Heights for the past six months. In fact, there are indications he left the country."

"Oh really?"

"Yes." Chief Jones' stiff smile was artificially friendly. "I'm positive the girl just ran away to punish her mother for not letting her go to Europe. She'll turn up in a few weeks acting like nothing happened."

"Did you speak to any of Jolene's friends?"

"Of course!" His smile slipped a little bit. "That's why I know she was upset about not getting to go to Europe."

"I see." Nancy glanced at Jimbo, who offered her a slight shrug. She returned her attention to the Chief. "So you don't think it's possible she's with her dad?"

"I'm quite sure." He managed a condescending smile.

"Well, thanks for taking the time to talk to me, Chief."

"No problem." He managed to make that sound like he had just endured the biggest inconvenience of the day.

Once the door closed behind them, Jimbo began to chuckle. "You don't believe a word of it, do you?"

"No," Nancy shook her head. "I guess I'm going to have to locate the father on my own."

"Good luck."

"Thanks."

Nancy drove home grumbling to herself. As soon as she arrived, she went straight to her room and began typing up her notes. "Chief Jones is an idiot!" she muttered to herself as she typed. "How can he say Thomas Winters hasn't been in River Heights in six months if he called Estelle Quito a month ago?" She stopped typing and sat back. "Sure, he could have been calling long distance, but still. If he had monthly visitation, why would he move away if he really loved his daughter?" She resumed typing, chewing on her lip. "What was that Estelle said? He was fired from his job at the high school? I should check on that."

She finished typing and saved the file using her standard encryption key. Then she fired up her browser and began searching for information on Thomas Winters. She found only one article in the River Heights Daily Press archives.

"He wasn't fired. He quit!" Nancy stared at the article. There wasn't much information. An editorial in the River Heights High School newspaper, _The Clarion_, had caused an uproar when it implicated an unnamed teacher in a homosexual affair with a male student. Thomas Winters, the journalism advisor at the time, had quit over the furor. Neither the teacher nor the student was ever named. "Wow! And the Winters' got divorced right after that." Nancy's mind raced as she mulled over these facts. "I wonder if Thomas was the unnamed teacher. That would certainly explain why Estelle divorced him and why she's so bitter about it."

Nancy turned around and gazed across the room. Then her eyes fell on the little ring box sitting on her nightstand. She reached across and picked it up. She smiled as she looked at the ring inside.

"You sweetie, Ned! You must have been saving for years to afford a diamond this big." She slipped it on her finger. "It really is pretty." She held her hand out and watched the gem sparkle as she moved her fingers. "I should have just told him yes. It's not like I want or expect a better offer." She glanced at her bed and grinned. "And he's so cute when we make love. You'd think it was the first time every time we do it."

Then she sighed, took the ring off and put it away. "Back to work!" She turned back to the computer screen and started another search. "Let's see what Google has to say about August Quito. There's something about that man I just don't trust."


	8. Not a Simple Job

_I'm so sorry I took so long posting another chapter! I really was busy, I swear! Just to show you I'm sincere, I'm going to post two chapters at once!_

-o-o-o-o-

Chapter 8: **Not a Simple Job**

"What the hell are you doing married to Estelle Winters?"

After a day and a half of research, Nancy could not understand what had led August Quito to marry Estelle Winters. They had almost nothing in common. After her divorce, Estelle had held a series of odd, low-paying jobs to support herself and Jolene. Because Thomas had quit his job at the high school, his child support payments had not even covered the rent. But Estelle's last job had been as a checker at River Heights Hardware, which is undoubtedly how the couple had met, since that was about the time August had bought the store. Estelle and August had married barely six months after Estelle's divorce had become final.

"There's no accounting for taste, I suppose. Maybe August just thought it was time to get married. Although, in that case, you'd think he'd treat her better."

Nancy's research had turned up lots of information on August Quito. He had owned dozens of businesses, most of which had ended up in the tank. River Heights Hardware was the one notable exception. But the Quitos' life style seemed more lavish than the income from the hardware store could support. Nancy's instincts were still buzzing.

But all her attempts to locate Thomas Winters turned up nothing. She could understand why Chief Jones thought he had left town. There was no record of him paying rent anywhere, or paying a phone or utility bill. He had no bank accounts. He didn't even have a library card. He had no family in town other than Jolene. If he was staying with friends, there was no sign of it.

"It's like he dropped off the face of the Earth. Damn!" Nancy frowned at her notes. "I should type these up. But maybe I need to get back to the first problem: Jolene. I'll go to her school tomorrow and see what I can find out. Maybe they'll know something about Thomas Winters."

The River Heights Achievement Academy was the sort of school Nancy suspected her father would have sent her to if it had existed when she was young. The neatly dressed students, in matching uniforms, were courteous and well-behaved when she asked for directions to the office before school started the next morning. In the administrative building, she was quickly directed to the office of the school principal, a Mrs. Durbin, when she explained the reason for her visit.

"Miss Drew," Mrs. Durbin said when they were seated at a small round table in her office, "Mrs. Quito told me she hired you to look for Jolene. Does that mean the police have given up?"

"The police think Jolene is a runaway. They're looking, but it's not a high priority item for them."

"That's unfortunate." Mrs. Durbin frowned. "I don't agree with that conclusion at all. Jolene is not the sort of girl to run away."

"I was hoping I might speak to Jolene's teacher and some of her friends. I need to understand what was going on with her just prior to her disappearance to reach a conclusion about whether or not she might have run away."

"Of course. Classes are about to begin, but this is important. I think a little disruption can be tolerated. I'll go take over Miss Kerney's class and send her to the office."

"Thank you." Nancy studied her notes while she waited for Jolene's teacher, Chloe Kerney. When the young woman arrived, she quickly closed the door and took a seat opposite Nancy with a nervous smile. She held out her hand.

"I'm Chloe Kerney."

"How do you do, Miss Kerney?" Nancy shook her hand. "I'm Nancy Drew. I was hired by Estelle Quito to look for her daughter, Jolene."

"I've heard of you, Miss Drew."

"Thanks. Call me Nancy. Miss Kerney, I understand you were the first person to realize Jolene was missing."

Chloe nodded slowly. "I think so. She missed school that day and no one had called to say she was sick. I was worried so I called her home. They had no idea she had not been at school. I felt just terrible."

"When was the last time you saw Jolene's father, Thomas Winters?"

"I'm afraid I've never met him."

Nancy was surprised. "He's never picked Jolene up from school?"

"Not since I've been working here. She's usually picked up by their maid. Sometimes her stepfather picks her up."

"I see." Nancy looked down at her notes. "Has Jolene been having trouble in school? Have you noticed anything unusual?"

"No," Chloe shook her head. "Jolene is a wonderful student. I wish all my students were like her." She smiled sadly. "She's always so friendly and cheerful."

"She didn't seem troubled at all the day before she disappeared?"

"No. She acted the same as always."

"Hmm…" Nancy wrote in her notebook for a moment. "Can you give me the names of some of Jolene's close friends? Oftentimes, children will tell their friends things that they would never tell their parents or teachers."

"That's true." Chloe thought for a moment. "Jolene spends most of her time with three girls: Abby Trask, Kate Johnson and Angela Duncan."

Nancy wrote the names down. "Can you ask Mrs. Durbin if it's all right for me to talk to these girls and send them to the office?"

"Certainly." Chloe stood up. "I hope you find Jolene, Miss Drew. I'm so worried about her."

"I'll do my best."

Nancy had to wait about ten minutes before Mrs. Durbin returned with three pretty preteen girls in tow.

"Sit down, girls," Mrs. Durbin ordered. "This is Miss Drew. As I explained on the way here, she is here to inquire about Jolene's disappearance." She turned to Nancy. "This is Abby," she indicated the only dark-haired girl in the group, "Angela and Kate."

The three girls took seats and regarded Nancy curiously. One of the blonds giggled nervously and Abby nudged her. "Shut up, Angela!" she whispered.

Nancy smiled at them to try to put them at their ease. "Thanks for coming. I understand the three of you are good friends with Jolene."

"Oh yes!" Abby nodded vigorously. "We've been friends, like, forever." The other two girls nodded quickly in agreement.

Nancy leaned forward. "Has Jolene ever told any of you about problems at home?"

"Nothing special," Abby said. She appeared to be the spokesperson for the group. "Her mom is totally into herself, you know? So she ignores Jolene all the time and sometimes Jolene would get upset about that. Especially when Angela's mom would take us all out for ice cream or to the arcade. She sometimes wished her mom would do stuff like that."

"I see. What about her father? Has she ever said anything about wanting to spend more time with him?"

"All the time," Kate piped up. "Jolene was always talking about how nice her dad is and how she hated that her mom was always interfering in his visit weekends. I don't think she's seen him for a while."

"He wanted to take her to Europe," Abby said, "but her mom wouldn't let her go. She cried."

"Do you think she would have run away so she could go to Europe with him?"

The three girls exchanged glances.

"Maybe," Angela said quietly, "but I think she would have told us, so we wouldn't worry."

"Yeah," Abby agreed. "Jolene wouldn't have gone without telling us. She's really thoughtful."

Nancy carefully noted down the girls' opinions. "Did anything unusual happen the day before Jolene disappeared?"

"Yeah," Angela giggled. "We got to go home early!"

Mrs. Durbin made a face. "That's right. Mr. Jordache, the chemistry teacher, had an accident during a lab and chemical fumes were released. He evacuated his room and called the fire department. I decided to close the school for the rest of the day as a precaution."

"Who picked up Jolene?" Nancy asked.

"No one," Mrs. Durbin replied with a frown. "We could not reach her mother or her stepfather. I finally gave her permission to get a ride home from Abby's mother."

Abby nodded. "We dropped her off at her house. That's the last time I saw her."

Nancy frowned. "Did you see if she actually went in the house?"

Abby thought for a moment. "No, I didn't. We didn't go in the driveway. Mom just pulled up in front of the gate."

"The gate was open?"

"Yeah. I remember Jolene waved at us and ran up the driveway. Then we drove off."

"You're thinking she never made it into the house?" Mrs. Durbin leaned forward, looking worried.

Nancy could tell from her expression that Mrs. Durbin was feeling responsible for having released Jolene into someone else's care. "No, I'm sure she must have made it home safely that day. Her parents did not report her missing until the next day, so they must have seen her that night."

Mrs. Durbin sat back and her face cleared. "Oh, yes, that makes sense."

"At this point," said Nancy, "I'm not sure what happened, except that I think she must have disappeared on the morning of the day she first missed school." She smiled at the three girls. "Thank you so much for taking the time to talk to me."

"We really hope you find her, Miss Drew," Abby said gravely. "We miss her."

"I hope I find her, too."

"All right, girls," Mrs. Durbin said, "time to head back to your classroom. Please don't speak about this to the other students. You understand that this kind of investigation is confidential."

"Yes, Mrs. Durbin," the girls chorused.

When they were gone, Mrs. Durbin turned serious eyes on Nancy. "Tell me honestly, Miss Drew. Do you think Jolene is still alive?"

Nancy frowned thoughtfully. "It's hard to say at this point. It's possible that she's with her father somewhere, in which case she should be all right. But it's just too early to say."

"I see." Mrs. Durbin stood up. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"When was the last time you saw Thomas Winters?"

"I think…" Mrs. Durbin paused for a moment, looking up at the ceiling in thought. "I think it must have been last fall term. He got to keep her for the Thanksgiving weekend and he picked her up from school that Wednesday." Mrs. Durbin pursed her lips. "They looked so happy together. Jolene jumped into his arms and he swung her around in the air. It was obvious they have a very close bond, despite the difficulties Mrs. Quito imposes."

"So it is possible she ran away to be with him."

"She might have," Mrs. Durbin agreed reluctantly.

Nancy stood up and held out her hand. "Thank you for the time, Mrs. Durbin. This has been very helpful."

"You're welcome, Miss Drew."

In her car, Nancy leaned on her steering wheel. "Did you run off with your dad, Jolene, or is it something else entirely?" She stared at nothing for several minutes. "What is it about this case that nags at me? I'm missing something, but what? Why can't I just accept the obvious answer, like the police? Damn!" Nancy started her car and headed home. "I'll just do a little more research on August and then I'm going to track down Thomas Winters."

At home, Nancy got to work immediately. She had printed several pages of information about August Quito's old businesses without really going through them. Now she poured over the information carefully.

"Wait a minute!" Nancy stopped halfway down one page, staring at a name. "I know this guy!" She flipped through several other pages, searching for the name. "I'll be damned! He's all over the place. August Quito knows Walter Surrey. They're business partners."

Even though she wasn't really supposed to, Nancy went to her dad's home office and searched through the electronic copies of his closed cases. "Here it is." Nancy read through the file carefully. It had happened a few years ago. One of Carson Drew's clients had sued Walter Surrey for breach of contract. The case had been settled out of court, but Nancy remembered her father talking about Surrey and calling him a very shady customer. In fact, if she recalled the conversation correctly, Carson had referred to Surrey as "a damned crook".

Nancy began to worry. "If Quito is into something criminal and Jolene found out about it…" She hurried back upstairs to search for more information. "There's got to be something."

It was very late when she sat back from her computer and stretched her arms above her head with a wide yawn. She had skipped dinner to keep tracing down several different leads on the businesses of August Quito and Walter Surrey. Ultimately, she had been led to a shipping business they ran together that barely broke even every year. It was the only one of August's business ventures that had not failed outright, except for River Heights Hardware. The business owned several warehouses, one of which was in River Heights.

Nancy glanced at her watch. "It's too late to go there tonight, but tomorrow's Friday. I can swing by the place in the afternoon and check it out." With a sigh, she stood up, stripped out of her clothes and crawled into bed. "My date with Ned isn't until Saturday, so there's time."

-o-o-o-

The warehouse was a typical looking place, except for the two characters smoking cigarettes in the alley by the entrance, leaning up against the back of a large van. One of the men was big and thuggish-looking. The other was a skinny, weasel-like sort. They didn't talk as they lounged there, just watched the people going by. They looked like they were waiting for something. Nancy didn't dare drive by a second time to get another look. She was certain they had seen her the first time she went by.

She turned the corner and parked a few blocks away. Then she walked back, taking a route that would take her past the other end of the alley, away from the entrance. When she reached the alley, she ducked quickly down it, hiding behind a convenient trash bin. She peaked around the bin, but there was no other cover in the alley to speak of. If she stepped out, she would be in plain view if the men came around the van.

"I guess I wait here," she murmured. After watching for a few minutes, a car pulled up at the far end of the alley and stopped. She couldn't see what was happening, but then the car pulled away and the two men appeared on the steps leading up to the warehouse door. The skinny man was carrying a pizza box and a six pack of soda. Nancy waited. About ten minutes later, the men reappeared empty-handed, climbed into the van, backed out of the alley and drove away.

Nancy stood up. "They left the food in the warehouse. I wonder if someone's inside." She looked up at the tall dirty-brown wall. "I'll come back tonight," Nancy said to herself. "It won't hurt to have a look inside the place."

That night, Nancy parked her car down the street and approached the warehouse on foot. It was quiet and the alley by the entrance was empty. The warehouse had two entrances: a man-size door at the top of a small flight of stairs and a wide roll-up door on the shipping and receiving dock. After looking around carefully, Nancy moved up the steps to the small door and tried the handle. It was locked. Smiling grimly to herself, Nancy pulled a lock pick out of her belt pouch and applied it to the lock. She worked the pick into the lock, feeling for the tumblers, pursing her lips with satisfaction at each successful click.

Then the doorknob turned in her hand and the door was yanked open, jerking her off balance so she fell into the open doorway. A big hand clamped over her mouth, cutting off her startled yelp, and a thick arm encircled her waist, dragging her inside.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" a deep, husky voice growled in her ear. "This here's private property." The man kicked the door shut and dragged Nancy further into the warehouse. At the top of a flight of stairs, light spilling out of another room allowed Nancy to get a look at her captor for the first time. It was the larger of the two men from the alley!

He grabbed her by her shoulders and held her at a distance, looking her up and down. "I know you!" he exclaimed, startled. "You're that detective girl; the one who's always solving the cops' cases before they do. Shit! I better call Quito." The man gripped her firmly by the arm and dragged her to another door. "You can just wait in here until I find out what to do about you. But you don't need this!" He yanked Nancy's belt pouch loose and tossed it aside. "Now in you go!" He pulled the door open and thrust Nancy inside. "Be a good girl and we'll feed you. Otherwise…" he glowered at her and then slammed the door.

Nancy kicked it, furious with herself. "I can't believe this!" she shouted. "Dammit!"

"Oh please don't shout, Miss!" a young voice spoke up behind her. "He means it. If we make noise, he won't bring any food or drink."

Nancy turned around to find Jolene Winters standing behind her. "Jolene!" Nancy exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"You know me?" Jolene asked in surprise. She stepped closer and stared up at Nancy with a frightened look on her face.

"Your mother hired me to find you." Nancy stepped forward and put an arm around Jolene's shoulders. "It looks like I succeeded, but not in the way I intended." She looked back at the door. "Nobody knows I'm here. I'm afraid I've screwed up pretty badly, Jolene."


	9. Filling in the Details

**Warning**: This story includes as an on-going sub-plot an incestuous homosexual relationship between Frank and Joe Hardy. This chapter contains strong sexual content and suggestive language.

-o-o-o-

Chapter 9: **Filling in the Details**

"Dammit!" Frank cried. He pounded his fist against the locked door angrily, although he was angrier at himself than at his captors. How could he let himself get captured like this? Then a female voice spoke from behind him.

"Frank Hardy? Is that you?"

Frank whirled around. "Nancy!"

"It is you!" Nancy dashed forward and flung her arms around Frank in a tight bear hug. "Man, are we glad to see you!"

"I'm relieved to find you alive!" Frank replied and then he paused. "We?"

"Yeah. I'm here with Jolene Winters." Nancy unclasped her arms from around him and pulled him farther into the room. "Jolene, this is my good friend Frank Hardy."

Frank could just see Jolene by the dim light filtering under the door. She was a slender girl with dark hair. She held out a hand awkwardly and Frank shook it. "It's nice to meet you Jolene. I'm glad to find you still alive, too."

Jolene sniffed and Nancy quickly took her hand. "We were starting to get a little worried about that," Nancy said. "But how did you find us?"

"Your friend Bess called and told us you were missing," Frank said. "We started following up your investigation and ended up here. But Joe's waiting for me outside. When I don't show up…" The distinctive pop of a handgun echoed dimly from outside. Frank whirled back toward the door. "Shit! Joe!"

Nancy grabbed his arm. "They won't kill him, Frank!" she exclaimed. "They haven't killed anyone yet."

"You don't know that!" Frank pounded on the door again.

"Frank! Think! They've been successful all these years by keeping a low profile. Having dead bodies turn up is not their style."

Frank's shoulders slumped. "But… They shot at him."

"He was probably running away." Nancy pulled him back into the room, where three or four crates stood close together. "Come sit down. Maybe they'll put him in here with us."

Reluctantly, Frank took a seat on a crate and the others followed suit. "So tell me what happened. How did you end up here?" He looked expectantly at Jolene, but it was Nancy who answered.

"Well, it all started for Jolene a few weeks ago, but it really started before that. It seems August Quito is running a smuggling business."

"My brother and I find out about that," Frank said quickly. "I saw the boys. Do you know what they're carrying?"

"They're not carrying anything," Nancy said grimly. "They're the cargo. August Quito and his partner Walter Surrey smuggle teenage boys into the country and sell them as sex slaves"

"What?"

Nancy nodded. "And it seems August has a taste for young boys. Jolene got out of school early unexpectedly a few weeks ago. She didn't know her mother was at the day spa that day and went looking for her in her bedroom. She caught Quito in bed with a boy almost as young as she is."

Frank stared.

"He told me not to say anything or he would divorce my mom," Jolene said quietly. "She was so hurt when she found out my dad had a boyfriend, I didn't want her to find about this." She sniffed again and scrubbed her eyes with the back of her hand.

"You know about your dad being… gay?" Frank asked gently.

"Yes." Jolene nodded slowly. "He told me right after my mom filed for divorce. He said he didn't want me to hear about it from other people who would make it sound bad. He said he just fell in love with the other man. He didn't mean to hurt Mom." Then she looked at Frank. "Did you talk to my dad?"

"Yeah. He's a nice guy."

"That's right!" Jolene said in a sharp tone. "My mom's wrong about him. Miss Drew told me that she said Dad kidnapped me. He would never do something like that. He's too gentle."

"I agree." Frank couldn't help smiling. "So what happened with your step-dad?"

"I didn't say anything to my mom about the boy, but the next day when August was driving me to school I told my him he had to stop sleeping with little boys because it was wrong and he would get arrested if someone found out. He got really mad and told me he was going to take care of me. He brought me here and I've been locked in ever since."

"And that's when we get to me," Nancy started. "I did a background investigation on Quito and found out about this warehouse. I drove by one afternoon and saw some suspicious characters leave takeout food in the warehouse. I came back that night to do a little snooping around and got caught trying to break into the warehouse." Nancy sounded disgusted with herself. "They stuck me in here with Jolene. I was relieved to find her still alive, but I feel like an idiot for getting caught myself."

"Tell me about it," Frank agreed. "Joe and I found out pretty much the same thing, which is why we were here. We knew the men were in the warehouse, but we didn't know what they were smuggling. I was trying to get evidence for the cops. How did you figure out it was the boys?"

"I guessed when Jolene told me about Quito and the boy, and from overhearing some of the things our resident thugs have said when they bring our meals."

"Clever." Frank fell silent. If Joe really had been caught, there was no one to call the cops. They could all be in serious trouble.

"Frank, now that you're here, I think there's a way to get one of us out of here," Nancy said.

"Oh, yeah?"

"There's a window up there." Nancy pointed high on the wall, near the ceiling. "We couldn't reach it with the just the two of us, even standing on the crates. But with you here…"

Frank stared up at the top of the wall. He could just see a lighter gray patch in the general darkness. "Right there, you mean?" He pointed.

"That's it."

"It looks pretty small."

"I think Jolene might fit it through it, though."

"There might not be anyway down." Frank rubbed his chin. "But it's better than nothing. Let's try it while it's still dark." He stood close to the wall, leaning against it with one hand. He held the other arm out with the elbow bent to make a step for Nancy. She climbed up on a crate and then stepped onto his forearm. From there she climbed to his shoulders. "Your turn, Jolene." Jolene climbed up as Nancy had, standing precariously on the edge of Frank's shoulder long enough for him to stick his arm up over his head with the palm cupped. Jolene stepped into his palm, climbed onto Nancy's waiting forearm and from there climbed onto her shoulders.

"I can reach it!" Jolene called out quietly.

"See if there's a latch," Frank said. "Don't break the window unless you have to."

"Ok." He listened to Jolene's soft grunts as she searched.

"I found it! The window opens out from the bottom." He felt Nancy's weight shifting as Jolene moved around. "There's a ledge outside. I think I can reach it. And there's a drainpipe just a few feet away. It runs all the way to the ground."

"Perfect!" Frank said encouragingly. "Can you get out?"

"I think so. Just a second."

Frank craned his neck to look up, but he couldn't really see anything around Nancy's legs. Jolene grunted with effort and some of the weight lifted from Frank's shoulders.

"I did it! I'm on the ledge!"

"Good girl!" Frank called. "When you get down, go to the right up the alley. Turn right when you get to the street. There's an all -night coffee shop about three blocks down. You go right in, tell them who you are and tell them to call the police. Then you tell the police everything you know."

"Ok."

Nancy climbed down and they listened to the faint sounds of Jolene creeping along the ledge. They heard the creak of the drainpipe as it took her weight. Then there was silence.

"I hope she's all right," Nancy whispered worriedly.

"We would have heard her if she fell," Frank answered with more confidence than he felt.

"I just hope the police believe her story. They think she's a runaway."

"They'll believe her." Now Frank did feel confident. "Even if they were inclined to think she found out about you from her friends, there's no way she could know that I talked to her dad unless she heard it from me. Thomas Winters should already have gone to the police to clear his name. The cops don't know I'm working on the case. I never talked to them."

"So all we have to do is wait."

"Yup, but how do you want to handle it the next time that door opens? I'm ready to kick some serious butt."

"I heard that," Nancy answered with a sharp nod. "I'm sick of playing the helpless female with these jerks."

"Good. Here's what I want to do…"

-o-o-o-o-o-

Joe struggled but it was no use. The cords holding him to the bed were very tight. He went still when the door opened. It was August Quito.

"Well, if it isn't Joe Hardy," August said with a lazy smile. "I hadn't really expected to see you again." He walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed. "You know, you and your brother lied to me before. You said you weren't detectives, but I checked up on you. Your dad is a very well known detective in these parts."

"So what?" Joe growled.

"So, that means I can't really afford to have you snooping around my business." August slowly pulled Joe's shirt out of his pants and slid his hand underneath, moving it caressingly up Joe's chest.

Joe couldn't help struggling. "Get your hands off me!"

August chuckled. "You really are a very pretty young man. A little old for my tastes but still quite delectable." He unzipped Joe's pants and put his hand in. Joe jerked his hips away and August laughed. He gripped Joe's cock firmly. "Maybe I should mention it excites me when a boy struggles. I pay extra for that." He stroked Joe's cock. "Come on now, don't resist." He leaned over and licked Joe's face. "I can make you feel real good."

"You sonuvabitch!" Joe cried. He struggled helplessly.

"Those bonds are going to make getting your clothes off difficult, but good bondage sex is worth a little effort, don't you think?" August released him and stood up. "Wait here," he chuckled, "I'm going to get a knife. I'm sure we can find something else for you to wear after I'm finished with you."

Joe fought back angry tears as August left and redoubled his efforts to escape. "I'm not letting that bastard touch me!" he whispered furiously. "No one touches me but Frank, goddammit!"

August reentered the room. "Now, now, Joe! No trying to escape. I haven't yet shown you how good a host I can be." He sat back down on the edge of the bed and twirled a long, thin-bladed knife between his fingers. "It's amazing what you can find on thugs these days. I knew one of them would have something appropriate." He slipped the knife under Joe's shirt and made a slit. Then he gripped the shirt on either side of the tear and swiftly jerked his hands apart, ripping the shirt to the collar seam. He used the knife to carefully cut through the seam and pushed the torn halves of the shirt apart, exposing Joe's chest. "That's better." He teased Joe's nipple with a fingertip and then traced a line down to his bellybutton. "Such beautiful musculature! You take good care of yourself, my boy. I appreciate that. Let's see what else you have to show me." He gripped Joe's pants and pulled them down over his hips. "Boxers! I like that. But you don't really need these either." He pulled the boxers down and Joe closed his eyes with a flush of humiliation. "Oh my!" August exclaimed. "You just get more and more handsome, don't you?"

"Stop it!" Joe cried out. "Don't touch me, you pervert!"

August grinned. "I'm quite proud of my perversions, Joe." He went down on Joe and began working him very diligently.

Joe tried to resist, but it was impossible. August was exceptionally good at oral sex and Joe felt utterly helpless. He wept as he climaxed, unable to stop the waves of pleasure washing through him.

"Delicious!" August murmured. He put his fingers in his mouth and pulled them out slowly. "Let's see what you have for me down here," he said and he inserted his fingers into Joe with a smile.

Joe gasped and tried to pull away from him. "Get your fingers out of me! Goddamn you!"

August moved his fingers in and out. "You're quite roomy. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were experienced at this."

"You bastard!"

"Let me see. Do I cut off your pants or can I get into you without removing them?" August climbed between Joe's legs and lifted him by the hips. "You know what? I think the pants are going to have to come off. I want to be able to enjoy you fully." August reached for the knife, which he'd left by Joe's side.

Someone knocked sharply on the door. "Mr. Quito!" It was Burt's voice. "I hate to bother you, but you better come talk to the boys. They're saying that guy told them they wouldn't get green cards. They're starting to get cold feet."

"Dammit!" August growled. He glared at Joe. "You really shouldn't have said that. These boys are worth a lot of money to me." He jumped off the bed. "Don't go away. I'll have to punish you for this when I get back." He grinned wickedly. "That will make the bondage even more fun." He left the room.

Joe stared after him, blinking away tears of anger and shame. And then he noticed that August had left the knife on the bed beside him. He twisted as much as his bonds would let him, trying to reach the knife with his mouth. It was just out of reach. Tears of frustration blurred his vision. "Dammit!" Joe shook his head, shaking the tears away. "I'm not gonna lie here and let that bastard rape me!" He strained toward the knife, pulling against the rope holding his left wrist. The knot was too tight for his hand to slip free and he began to feel the pain in his shoulder. "Shit!" Joe wept, "I can almost reach it!" He pulled even harder and something popped in his shoulder. Excruciating pain shot up his arm and Joe gasped, biting his lips to keep from screaming aloud. But then he realized he could lean even farther. His shoulder had come out of the socket.

Joe grasped the knife in his teeth, tears of pain pouring down his cheeks. He braced the knife against his right arm and moved it around until he had the handle between his lips. Then he began to saw diligently at the rope around his right wrist. When the strands finally parted and his wrist came free, Joe dropped the knife with a gasp of joy. Then he picked it up and cut his left wrist free. His arm hung uselessly at his side. Each movement sent fresh waves of agony radiating from his shoulder but Joe ignored it. He cut his ankles free and rolled off the bed, letting his left arm dangle. He pulled his pants up as best he could one-handed and then clutched the knife firmly in his right hand, the blade pointing down.

"I'll kill the son of a bitch!"

-o-o-o-o-o-

Frank cupped his hand around his ear and leaned against the door. "I can hear them talking."

Nancy copied him and they listened in silence.

"Look," Quito was saying, "we'll just move the boys. They'll forget about what Hardy said once they're working."

"But what if they say something to a customer?" Burt said in a whining voice. "If people start asking questions…"

"No one's going to ask questions," Quito answered in a patient voice. "Our customers know they're buying contraband. Our repeat customers appreciate the quality of our merchandise. Tell the boys to quit worrying. Give them some candy and a couple of Gameboys. They'll shut up."

"If you say so, Boss," Cam replied with a shrug. "But what about the other guy?"

"That must be Frank Hardy," Quito said. "We'll get rid of him and his brother when the boys are in L.A. And we'll get rid of the other two as well. We can let my wife's ex take the fall for killing them."

"The bastard!" Nancy hissed under her breath.

"I think it's time we got their attention," Frank said. He stepped back from the door, braced himself and kicked it hard. The door shuddered and groaned under the impact. "Let us out!" Frank screamed. "The police are on their way! You're all going to jail!"

"Boss!" Burt sqeaked.

"Get in there and shut him up!" Quito snarled.

Frank and Nancy moved behind the door and waited. The deadbolt slid back and the door swung open sharply. They immediately caught the edge and threw it back. Cam let out a roar of pain as the edge of the door caught him across the face. He staggered backward into Burt and Frank and Nancy used the moment of confusion to charge out through the open door.

"Get them!" August cried. He dashed forward and then cried out as something tripped him.

Frank jumped Cam, knocking him to the ground. Cam fumbled for his gun but Frank knocked it away. Then he cracked Cam on the chin with his closed fist and Cam's head smacked hard against the floor. His eyes lost focus. Burt tried to grab Nancy, but she neatly sidestepped his clumsy maneuver and snapped a kick into the bridge of his nose. He went down in a heap.

Then Frank looked up to see Joe straddling August Quito, a knife in his hand.

"Joe! What are you doing!"

"I'm gonna kill the sonuvabitch!" Joe snarled and he raised the knife. Quito grabbed Joe's wrist, struggling to keep the knife from his throat. His eyes were round with terror.

"Joe!" Frank cried. He jumped to his feet and grabbed Joe's hand, twisting the fingers to make Joe drop the knife.

"Goddammit!" Joe screamed. "Let me kill him!" Tears streamed down his face. "He tried to… tried to…" Joe couldn't finish the sentence. His left arm dangled at his side and now he clutched at his shoulder, his face awash with pain.

Frank went pale. For the first time, he saw Joe's naked chest, his partly undone trousers and his eyes snapped to Quito's face, remembering the way Quito had looked at Joe the first time he saw him. "You goddamn pervert!" Frank growled. "What did you do to him?" His mind went blank. Just the idea of someone else touching Joe drove him crazy. He jumped on Quito, his fists flying.

"Frank!" Nancy shouted. "Stop! Don't kill him!" She jumped on his back, dragging him away from Quito by sheer strength of will. "Stop it! Joe's all right. His shoulder's just dislocated! That's all! Stop it!"

Slowly, her words got through to him and Frank stopped struggling. He stared down at Quito. August's face was bloodied and swollen, his lips cut. His eyes were rolled up in his head. He was only partly conscious. Frank pulled out of Nancy's hands and went to Joe. "Are you all right, Joe?" He embraced his brother carefully.

"My shoulder…" Joe whispered. "Nancy's right. I dislocated it getting loose. It hurts…"

"I can fix it," Frank said. He cupped Joe's cheek in his hand. "It's gonna hurt, though."

Joe smiled back, although it was more of a grimace. "It hurts now."

"Right," Frank said. "Lie down." When Joe was prostrate on the floor, Frank took Joe's left wrist in his right hand and braced his foot against Joe's shoulder. "Go ahead and scream, this is really gonna hurt." Then he jerked firmly on Joe's arm.

They could all hear the pop as Joe's shoulder went back into the socket. Joe screamed.

"We'll go to the hospital later to get it X-rayed, ok?" Frank said as he helped Joe to his feet. Joe nodded mutely.

"I hear sirens," Nancy said suddenly. Cam started to sit up. Nancy stepped over and gave him a stiff right cross. Cam sprawled to the floor unconscious.

Frank and Joe stared.

"I told you I was sick of being treated like a helpless girl," Nancy growled. "I'm going down to open the door for the police. You guys can keep an eye on things here, right?"

"Sure." Frank watched Nancy jog down the stairs. "Do you suppose Ned has any idea what he's in for marrying that woman?"

"Probably not."

Frank turned to Joe and looked him in the eye. "Quito didn't…"

"No," Joe shook his head. "I'll tell you later what happened, but he didn't rape me."

"Thank god." Frank embraced him again. "I don't know what I'd do if anything ever happened to you."

"I wasn't going to let him touch me." Joe leaned his head against Frank's shoulder. "No one touches me but you, big brother."


	10. Wrapping Up

**Warning**: This story includes as an on-going sub-plot an incestuous homosexual relationship between Frank and Joe Hardy. This chapter contains strong sexual content and suggestive language.

-o-o-o-

Chapter 10: **Wrapping Up**

"Well, Miss Drew, it seems you were right about this case." Chief Jones managed to keep the sourness out of his voice, but his pinched expression gave him away.

"Thanks, Chief," Nancy replied magnanimously. She managed to keep her grin from getting too wide. "I'm just glad everything turned out all right. I guess we have Frank and Joe to thank for that." She turned her smile on the two brothers.

Chief Jones turned his sour smile on them as well. "Yes, I suppose so, although I would be happier if you had told me you were stepping into the investigation."

"We didn't expect the situation to become so dangerous," Frank replied calmly. "Had we realized what kind of trouble we were facing, of course we would have notified the police immediately." He blinked disarmingly at the Chief.

Nancy had to stifle a laugh.

The Chief glared at her darkly for a moment. "I'm still not sure I understand how Joe was injured."

Frank immediately bristled. "He was tied up and hurt himself escaping. That's all."

Chief Jones looked inclined to question this, so Nancy intervened. "Joe really should be seen by a doctor, Chief. Did you send for a paramedic?"

"Yes, of course." The Chief looked from one to the other of them, his eyes narrowed. He obviously suspected them of withholding something. "After the medics look Joe over, I want everyone to come to the police station for questioning. I want to know exactly what is going on so I can file the right charges against everyone." He made it sound like he was hoping 'everyone' included Nancy, Frank and Joe.

"Of course, Chief," Nancy replied brightly. "But what about the boys?" She nodded toward the group of boys huddled uncertainly in the middle of the open area of the warehouse's upper floor, surrounded by officers.

"I've sent for the immigration people. The boys will be turned over to them."

"Are they going to get deported?" Joe demanded immediately. He winced in pain as he spoke.

"Not my call," Chief Jones answered. "They've got no papers and you said they were smuggled into the country by this guy and an accomplice." He hooked a thumb at August Quito, who was sitting slumped on the floor holding his battered head.

"Walter Surrey," Nancy reminded him.

"He has a boat at the Bay Port Marina called Pretty Boy," Frank added. "I hope you notified the Coast Guard in case he tries to escape."

Chief Jones' expression turned sour again. "I did."

"But it doesn't seem right about the boys…" Nancy began.

"Not my call!" the Chief repeated firmly. "Nor is it yours." He fixed a stern eye on Nancy. "You were hired to find a missing child, Miss Drew, which you did. The rest of this," he indicated August, Burt, Cam and the boys, "is just gravy. Be happy with the outcome."

Nancy frowned, but she had to admit the Chief was right. At this point, it was all out of her hands.

At that moment, the paramedics arrived and Frank beckoned them over to attend to Joe. After examining him briefly, one medic remained with Joe to bandage and immobilize his shoulder, while the other went over to check on August and Burt. Nancy grinned whenever she looked at Burt. She had broken his nose and his face was swelling up. But August looked worse. Both of his eyes were black and swollen shut. His lips were split in three places and swollen to comical size. But he was still alive and the thought turned her attention back to Frank and Joe. Frank was hovering over his brother protectively, giving the medic just enough room to work. He hadn't been out of arm's reach from Joe's side since she'd stopped him from beating Quito to death.

It made her stop to think. Frank's reaction could certainly be explained away as brotherly concern, but it seemed a little excessive to Nancy. The way he was looking at Joe now seemed more like a… Nancy stared. She remembered the way Frank had embraced Joe when he asked if Joe was all right. The medic finished what he was doing and Frank put his arm around Joe again. Nancy flushed and looked away. If they hadn't been brothers, she might have thought they were lovers. But that was impossible. After all, she had no siblings herself, so what did she really know about sibling affection? She was probably just too keyed up by the situation and reading too much into their natural affection for each other.

Her chain of thought was broken by Chief Jones clapping his hands together sharply. "All right people, let's get the perps and the victims loaded and moved to the precinct. Forensics needs room to work."

August, Burt and Cam, already handcuffed, were escorted to waiting squad cars. Nancy and Jolene were placed in another car and Frank and Joe in a third. A van with U.S. Government markings was also waiting outside to receive the boys. Nancy looked a little wistfully after the boys as they were ushered into the van. She hoped they would be all right.

Beside her, Jolene watched as the van doors closed behind the last boy. "What do you think will happen to them, Miss Drew?"

"I don't know," Nancy shook her head. "But I'm pretty sure I know what will happen to your step-dad," she added grimly. "He's going to rot in jail for a long time and he just better hope no one finds out why he's there. Child molesters don't do well in prison."

Jolene sighed. "Mom's going to be unhappy again. And I guess we'll be poor again, too." She sighed wistfully. "I'm going to miss my school."

"Don't worry too much about that yet," Nancy said encouragingly. She put her arm around Jolene. "Sometimes things have a way of working out for the better."

At the police station, Nancy, Jolene, Frank and Joe were parked in an interview room while the police took care of procedural matters. A police matron was placed with them for Jolene's sake. The officer leaned against the wall by the door, looking bored.

Jolene glanced at her once or twice and then spoke up timidly. "Do you know if anyone called my mother?"

The woman straightened up. "Yes, a police car was sent for her. We sent one for your father, too."

"For my dad? Really?" Jolene sat up straight.

"Yeah, he asked to be notified if we learned anything."

Jolene squeezed Nancy's hand. "Did you hear that? My dad's coming!" Jolene grinned happily and bounced in her chair excitedly. "I wonder when he'll get here?"

There was a knock on the door and the policewoman stuck her head out. Then she opened the door wider to reveal Thomas Winters and Chris Curry standing next to a uniformed officer. Thomas only made it one step into the room.

"Daddy!" Jolene squealed. She barreled out of her seat and leaped into Thomas' arms.

"Jo!" Thomas cried. He clutched his daughter tight against his chest, his cheeks wet with tears. "I was so worried! I didn't know…"

"I'm ok, Daddy," Jolene said happily. She pressed her cheek against his. "I missed you so much!"

"I missed you too, sweetie."

Father and daughter held each other tight for a long time. No one else said a word. Then Thomas loosened his hold on Jolene a little bit and turned slightly.

"Jolene, I'd like you to meet someone. This is Chris Curry. He's…"

"Your boyfriend," Jolene finished with a giggle.

Thomas flushed. "Yes."

Chris held out his hand. "How do you do, Jolene? It's a pleasure to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Curry." She let go of Thomas just long enough to give Chris' hand a quick shake before clamping her arms tight around Thomas' neck again.

"Please call me Chris."

Thomas put Jolene down and turned to Frank. "Thank you, Mr. Hardy, although those simple words hardly seem adequate for what you've done for us. For me." He glanced quickly at Chris. "I can't possibly repay you…"

Frank stood up and held out his hand. "Seeing Jolene's smile is payment enough, Mr. Winters."

Thomas shook his hand.

"Where is she!"

The dramatic, high-pitched shout from somewhere in the hall made them all jump. Estelle Quito appeared in the doorway looking uncharacteristically rumpled.

"Jolene!" Estelle shouldered her way into the room and clasped Jolene to her bosom. "My darling! You're alive!" She glared at Thomas. "I knew you had something to do with this!"

Thomas backed up without saying a word.

Jolene pulled away from her mother. "No he didn't'!" she shouted. "Daddy would never do anything to hurt either one of us and you know it!"

Estelle's shocked look was almost comical.

"August kidnapped me because I found out he was having sex with little boys! Daddy had nothing to do with it!"

Estelle went pale and she staggered to the side, clutching the back of a chair to keep from collapsing. "What? What did you say?" She stared at Jolene and then looked at Nancy.

Nancy stepped forward and put a comforting hand on her arm. "I'm sorry Estelle, but what Jolene says is true. August was responsible for her disappearance. The police will tell you the rest. They will need to interview you."

Estelle shook her head weakly. "No, that can't be true. August loves me! He would never…" She stared at Thomas and her face crumpled. "It's all your fault! If you hadn't…" She swayed and slumped forward in a swoon. Nancy grasped her arm, but the policewoman quickly stepped forward and caught Estelle before she fell.

"I'll take care of her," the officer said and she helped Estelle from the room.

Nancy spoke into the embarrassed silence that followed. "Jolene, I hope you understand how much your mother will need your sympathy. She's in a very painful situation."

Jolene looked down. "I know. But she's always blaming Dad for everything. She's the one who married August. I never trusted him."

"Children have good instincts," Joe said quietly.

Chris turned to the officer who had brought him and Thomas to the room. "Does Jolene have to stay at the police station? I'd like to take her home, if that's all right."

"I'm not the custodial parent…" Thomas began weakly.

Chris interrupted him. "I think you have a weekend coming. I'll talk to the Chief." He left, closing the door behind him.

Jolene wrapped her arms around Thomas' waist. "I want to go with you, Daddy. Please?"

Thomas leaned down and kissed the top of her head. "All right, sweetheart."

"I don't think it will be a problem," Nancy said. "It looks like Estelle may have to spend the night in the hospital under sedation. I'll put in a good word for you, Mr. Winters, and I'm sure Frank will too."

Frank nodded in agreement. He still had his arm around Joe.

"Thank you all so very much," Thomas said earnestly. "Losing my daughter was the worst thing that ever happened to me. I think… I think now I will fight for custody. I let Estelle keep Jolene because I thought that as a gay man, I didn't have a chance to win even joint custody. But after this…" He smiled sadly. "Maybe a gay man in a stable relationship will look better to the courts than an unstable woman married to an imprisoned child molester."

"You've decided to stay with Chris?" Frank asked.

Thomas nodded and smiled. "I was a fool not to rely on him in the first place. I cost us five years of happiness and made myself miserable for no reason. I won't make that mistake again, just like I won't make the mistake of giving up the battle for custody of Jolene."

Jolene grinned and hugged Thomas more tightly.

"Nancy," Frank said. "Do you think the Chief will let my and Joe's interviews wait until tomorrow? I think Joe needs to go home and rest."

"I don't see why not. I know the guys here. I'll get someone to drive you home."

"That's ok. A lift back to my car would be fine."

"Sure thing." Nancy left the interview room and went down the hall to the bullpen. "Hey Jimbo! Can you give the Hardys a ride back to their car? Joe needs to go home and crash."

"I thought the Chief still wanted to talk to them?"

"He does, but they'll come back tomorrow." Nancy smiled her most disarming smile. "Joe got a little thrashed back there. He could use some sack time."

Jimbo shrugged. "I guess. Lemme double-check it with the Chief first."

"Great. Thanks Jimbo."

"Hey, shouldn't you be calling your dad? He's been real worried. And what about your boyfriend?"

Nancy smiled. "Yeah, I'll call them. I just want to get my case wrapped up first. I have a feeling no one's going to let me take another one for a long time."

-o-o-o-o-o-

Frank sighed with relief when they finally pulled up in front of their apartment building. He made a mental note to send Nancy a nice thank-you gift for getting them released early. It was nearly dawn. Joe was asleep in the passenger seat, but he stirred when Frank turned off the engine.

"Are we home?" Joe mumbled sleepily.

"Yeah. Sit tight a second. Let me come around and give you a hand."

Frank got of the car and hurried around to help Joe out of his seat. Joe gasped with pain.

"Shit! It still hurts, even bandaged up like this."

"Didn't the medic give you a pain killer?"

"Yeah, but I think she held out on the good stuff."

"We'll go by the clinic tomorrow and get you a prescription for something stronger. But for tonight, I think you'll have to make do with a heavy dose of ibuprofen."

"I'd settle for a stiff drink at this point."

They made their way slowly into the apartment and into the bedroom. Frank eased Joe down onto the bed and knelt down to take off his shoes.

"You know," Frank said, "the last time we worked on a case with Nancy, you ended up hurt. I think her cases may be too dangerous."

Joe chuckled. "Maybe so. But I also remember that last time you didn't let a little flesh wound keep you from taking care of my needs."

Frank went still and frowned. "Joe, what did Quito do to you?"

Joe swallowed. "He… he sucked me off and… stuck his fingers in me. He was going to do more, but he got interrupted. I was able to escape after that." He put his right hand on Frank's shoulder. "I didn't want to come when he… but I couldn't help it." A tear trickled down his cheek. "I never wanted anyone but you to touch me…"

Frank wrapped his arms around Joe's hips. "I know. I wanted to kill him when I thought he had…" He paused and looked directly into Joe's eyes. "You're mine, Joe. It doesn't matter what happened. You're still mine."

Joe leaned down and kissed Frank on the mouth. "Show me," he whispered. "I don't want to go to sleep again with his hands being the last thing I remember."

"Your shoulder…"

"Get the ibuprofen, a glass of water and the lube." Joe crawled backward onto the bed and stretched out. "I don't think it will bother me too much if I'm lying down."

Frank stood up, leaned over Joe and kissed him warmly. "Whatever you want, little brother." He went to get the ibuprofen first and helped Joe sit up to swallow the pills. Then he stripped Joe carefully before shedding his own clothes. "Tell me if this hurts too much." He climbed onto the bed and carefully lifted Joe's legs onto his shoulders. He squirted lube onto his fingers and felt a brief moment of rage as he inserted them into Joe.

Joe lifted his hips with a sigh. "Thank you, Frank."

"I'm sorry I let this happen, Joe."

"It wasn't your fault."

"I'm your big brother. I'm supposed to look after you."

"You always do." Joe smiled at him. "Thinking of you gave me the strength to rip my arm out of the socket rather than let him do anything else to me."

Frank laughed softly. "You know, I think you're probably the stronger of the two of us."

Joe chuckled. "Perhaps. But you're bigger. Why don't you show me how big?"

"With pleasure." Frank shifted forward and thrust himself slowly into Joe. The familiar tight feel of Joe's body sent a wave of delight washing over him.

Joe arched up with a groan of pleasure. "This is how it's supposed to be!" he gasped. "It's only right when it's you inside me."

"And I'm the only one who will ever know how good this feels!" Frank grasped back. "I love you, little brother."

"I love you, too, big brother."

-o-o-o- The End -o-o-o-

_Whew! I know some of you will complain that I've left loose ends again, but I'd have to do actual research if I start delving too far into what happens to the boys, Walter Surrey and August Quito. I'll let your imaginations run wild and you can provide them all with suitable ends. I don't think I'll be writing any more of these Hardy Boys stories. Like I said last time; writing mysteries is tough. I think I'll stick to comedy for a while._


End file.
